


Collide

by enigmaticblue



Series: A Better Metaphor [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Season/Series 06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 09:29:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 68,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1683422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if that house-demolishing in Smashed was a metaphor with a different meaning than the writers gave it? What if that night marked a release of a different sort? Goes seriously AU immediately after Smashed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Release

**Author's Note:**

> It’s no secret that I have a love/hate relationship with Season 6 of Buffy. On the one hand, it spurred me to both seek out and write fanfic, so that’s good. On the other hand, it made me genuinely dislike—if not hate—characters I had loved. In any case, the inspiration for this story came from several conversations with jen_nsync_landl, talesofspike, spikereader, and Jennifer Crusie’s essay in Seven Seasons of Buffy. Because her interpretation of that last scene in Smashed is so crucial to the story, I’ve reproduced it below. Again, without permission, so please don’t sue.
> 
> “In what was evidently one of the great botched metaphors in the history of storytelling, Buffy and Spike consummate their relationship and demolish a derelict mansion in their throes. Houses are a common symbol for people in stories…and this one seems to clearly represent Buffy’s once rich but now derelict past life. She has died in one life and been resurrected into a new one, but she’s clinging to the past, living in the decaying shell of her former existence, an old life that must be rejected before she can live fully in the new world. When she embraces Spike, she embraces the dark side of her destiny, an adult rejection of the simplistic good/evil universe of her childhood, freeing herself to move into the future…Their consummation takes them to the deepest levels, both symbolically and literally as they fall into the basement, and leaves Buffy standing in a shaft of light in the morning, reborn. As metaphoric scenes go, it’s one of the most powerful in the history of the series. Except that’s evidently not what the writers had in mind, since they insisted in interviews that the wreck symbolized the relationship as a bad choice.” ~Jennifer Crusie, “Dating Death,” excerpted from Seven Seasons of Buffy
> 
> So that’s my question. What if Crusie’s interpretation was right? What if that marked the beginning of something good? And, because I’m a therapist by training I’ll ask, what if that was just the kind of release Buffy needed to be able to move forward, at least a little bit at a time?
> 
> I liked some of the themes the writers were trying to explore in S6. I still want to look at growing up, being an adult, dealing with the daily stuff that can kill you slowly. I also want to take a new look at what it means to desire control badly enough that you’ll take it, what it means to love somebody enough to spend your life with them, and how friendship can get you through the worst times of your life.
> 
> And it’s about hope, because we wouldn’t have a prayer of surviving this world without it.

**“Call you up in the middle of the night/Like a firefly without a light/You were there like a blowtorch burning/I was a key that could use a little turning/So tired that I couldn’t even sleep/So many secrets I couldn’t keep/I promised myself I wouldn’t weep/One more promise I couldn’t keep…Can you help me remember how to smile?/Make it somehow all seem worthwhile/How on earth did I get so jaded?/Life’s mystery seems so faded…** **And everything seems cut and dried,/Day and night, earth and sky,/Somehow I just don't believe it…” ~Soul Asylum, “Runaway Train”**

 

Buffy awoke with a start. It was the first time in months that she hadn’t dreamt of waking up in her coffin and clawing her way out.

 

It was also the first time in years that she’d woken with no idea of where she was.

 

She took a deep breath, the previous night’s activities coming back to her slowly. Buffy stood, wrapping her skirt around her and stepping into the light that streamed down from the hole in the ceiling. Apparently, she and Spike had literally brought the house down.

 

“Buffy?”

 

She turned slowly to look at him, laid out on the floor, naked and unashamed. It hit her then—what she’d done. She’d had sex with Spike. A lot. In an abandoned building. The Slayer had screwed the Slayer of Slayers into a wall—and the floor. Buffy could see her marks on his torso and face.

 

“Oh, God, what have I done?”

 

Spike’s brow creased, and his eyes reflected a mixture of concern and anger. “You wanted this last night.” It was an accusation as much as a reminder.

 

She had. Buffy had wanted him so badly she could taste it. She’d wanted to let go for a moment—to release that image that everyone seemed so determined to wrap her up in. Buffy wanted to know what it was like to taste death, and paradoxically, to taste life all at the same time.

 

Wasn’t that what sleeping with Spike meant? That she was embracing death—and yet he was the most alive person she knew. He was the only one who hadn’t made any demands of her since she’d been back. At least, he hadn’t made any demands until she’d kissed him. After that, all Spike wanted was to talk about it.

 

Buffy didn’t have the words.

 

Spike stood, approaching her cautiously. Buffy turned away from him, hiding herself from his view, even though it was a futile gesture. Spike had always been able to see her.

 

Carefully avoiding the sunbeams, he put a tentative hand on her shoulder, knowing that it could go either way at the moment. Buffy could turn on him, deny everything that had passed between them, and declare that it would never happen again, just as she’d done with their kisses—chaste when compared to last night.

 

Or she could finally let him in, as he’d thought she was doing. It was impossible to tell.

 

Her shoulders were shaking under his hand, and he reached out to cup the back of her neck, tugging gently to get her to step back from the light a bit. He knew he couldn’t do her any good if he went up in flames. “Come on, pet. It’s gonna be okay.”

 

“How is it ever going to be okay?” she demanded, turning.

 

For one brief moment Spike was certain that she was going to stake him. Instead, she took a step forward, leaning her tear-streaked face against his bare chest. Spike could feel her hot tears, her warm skin, her shaking form. As far as he knew, this was the first time Buffy had allowed herself to cry since getting dragged out of heaven.

 

Spike was fairly sure that the last thing a guy wanted after his first night with the woman of his dreams was her sobbing in his arms. It made him uncomfortable—and oddly touched. Buffy’s weeping in front of him seemed far more intimate than anything they’d done the night before.

 

He only wished there was something he could tell her, some promise that he could give.

 

Buffy suddenly pulled back from him, the waterworks ending as quickly as they’d begun. “I have to go.”

 

“Buffy—”

 

“Dawn’s been alone all night,” she said, searching frantically for her discarded clothing. “She’s probably wondering where I am.”

 

Spike sighed. “And I’m stuck here for the day.” At her questioning glance, he waved at the patch of sunlight. “No way out.” He raised an eyebrow. “You could stay.”

 

“I can’t, Spike,” Buffy said irritably. “Not when Dawn has no idea where I am.”

 

He grunted, finding his jeans and pulling them on with an angry snap of the fabric. “Right. This is where you give your ‘this’ll never happen again’ speech. Spare me.”

 

“Have you not been listening to me?” she demanded. “I have responsibilities. I can’t just spend the whole day with you.” Buffy straightened out her clothing, knowing that she probably looked a complete mess. “Look, I’ll come back later with some blood or something. Before sunset.”

 

Spike’s eyes were wary. “Why?”

 

She rolled her eyes. “I figured you’d probably want to _talk_.”

 

The way she said it, he’d have thought it was a dirty word. Spike was silent, not knowing quite what to say in response. “Yeah, it’d be nice.”

 

“Then I’ll see you later.”

 

Buffy started the climb out of the rubble, hearing his voice call out behind her. “It was good, wasn’t it?”

 

She didn’t turn around, whispering, “Best damn night of my life.”

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy knew she probably ought to be feeling guilty. It certainly wasn’t something she could ever have imagined doing. Having sex with Spike was wrong.

 

And why the hell should she care if it was?

 

She’d lost herself last night. For hours, she’d had no thoughts of heaven, of not having enough money, of worrying over Dawn. There had only been her and Spike and the moment.

 

That’s when the guilt hit. It wasn’t because it was Spike she was sleeping with; it was because she knew he loved her—and Buffy had no idea what she felt for him. He was the guy that kept her steady, the one who listened, but she had no idea if there was any more to it than that.

 

She had to talk to him. Buffy had to tell him that whatever was between them—it wasn’t what he thought. It couldn’t be.

 

Buffy reached the front door just as Tara was coming out, and she stopped the other girl with a hand on her arm. “Tara? Is everything okay?”

 

“I-it’s fine,” she stuttered. “I stayed with Dawn last night, and Willow just got back.”

 

Buffy frowned. “Do you—can we talk sometime? Maybe here isn’t a good place, but—”

 

“We could meet at the Espresso Pump,” Tara suggested, her own discomfort forgotten when she caught sight of Buffy’s eyes. Buffy looked haunted. “This afternoon maybe? I should be done at the library by four.”

 

“Yeah, that should work,” Buffy said, sounding distracted. She was trying to work out when she would be able to manage visiting Spike, and how she was going to placate Dawn.

 

And whether she should do anything about Willow.

 

“Buffy, are you okay?”

 

Buffy met Tara’s eyes, her lips curving up in a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah. I’m good.”

 

“We’ll talk later,” Tara said, squeezing her hand.

 

Buffy entered the house, going straight into the kitchen where Willow and Dawn were standing looking at each other a little awkwardly. Dawn turned to her, her eyes widening in relief. “Buffy! Are you okay? You’re limping.”

 

“I’m okay,” Buffy assured her, levering herself down onto one of the stools. She ached all over. “I was just out—with Spike. We had a big crowd of demons to take care of.”

 

Dawn let out a breath. “Did he get hurt?”

 

Buffy shook her head, holding back a bitter laugh. “No, he’s fine. About as banged up as I am, but no worse.”

 

“You were with Spike?” Willow asked, incredulous. “I didn’t think you liked patrolling with him.”

 

Buffy raised her head and looked Willow straight in the eyes. “Spike watches my back. And we have a lot in common these days.”

 

“Like what?” Willow asked.

 

Buffy raised her eyebrows. “Well, for starters he’s the only other person I know who still dreams about waking up in a coffin.” Buffy could see the hurt flash in Willow’s eyes, but for once she didn’t care. It was all true. She was tired of pretending that everything was okay for her friends’ sake.

 

She turned to look at Dawn. “I’m going to go take a hot bath, try to get rid of some of these aches. Do you want to pick a movie to watch?”

 

Dawn’s whole face brightened. “Yeah, sure.”

 

“Something low key?” Buffy requested. “I may end up falling asleep, but I’m still feeling wired right now.”

 

“You got it, Buffy,” Dawn replied happily. She watched as her sister limped out of the room, and then looked over at Willow. Willow still appeared stunned. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know Buffy was still having nightmares.”

 

Willow shook her head. “That was months ago, Dawnie. She should be over it by now.”

 

“That was, like, Buffy’s greatest fear since she was little,” Dawn replied. “Even I know that.” She left the room to find a movie that would help her sister get to sleep. Buffy wanted to hang out with her, even after spending all night fighting monsters.

 

Maybe things would be okay after all.

 

~~~~~

 

As the sun sank lower in the sky, Spike became more and more certain that Buffy was going to stand him up. It was getting late in the day, and she’d promised to come by sundown. It didn’t look like that was going to happen.

 

He still wasn’t quite sure what to think about the Slayer’s reaction upon waking. Sure, she’d run from him, but there was good reason, and Spike didn’t think it had sounded like an excuse. Buffy had said she needed to get to Dawn, and he could understand why the Bit would be worried.

 

Spike couldn’t help but think that there was going to be more fallout from their tryst, though. Buffy had promised to talk to him, and he didn’t think he was going to like what he would hear. The whole night had been a bloody revelation. If she cut him off after this, if she refused to speak to him or have anything to do with him, Spike knew it could end up driving him just a bit crazy. She needed him. He was sure of it.

 

He’d thought she was in his blood before. It was nothing compared to how he felt now.

 

“Spike?”

 

Buffy climbed down carefully, picking her way through the rubble to hand him a thermos. Spike could feel the heat through the metal. She’d warmed up his blood for him. He looked down at the metal container, trying to hide a wince. “So, I’m guessing that whatever you’ve got to say to me is either really good or really bad.”

 

“We can’t do this.”

 

“Right. Really bad then.” Spike turned away from her, wondering whether he could crush the thermos if he squeezed hard enough.

 

He heard Buffy take a deep breath. “I’m not going to tell you that what we’re doing is wrong. I don’t know if it is or not anymore, and I don’t care either way.”

 

Spike faced her once again. “Then what are you saying?”

 

“I don’t love you.” Spike’s jaw tensed, the muscle ticking. He didn’t blame her for not loving him. It just hurt like a bitch to hear. “I like being around you. When I’m with you, it’s easier to forget that I hate being alive.”

 

He tilted his head. So far, it wasn’t so bad. Buffy was giving him something to work with. “I don’t understand.”

 

“That’s just it, Spike. I know how you feel about me. I can deny it. I can tell you that you’re imagining things, but there are some things you just can’t fake.” Buffy forced herself to meet his eyes. “From what Dawn’s said—I know what you did for her while I was gone.”

 

Spike looked uncomfortable. “Look, Slayer, I—”

 

“Let me finish,” Buffy said. “I know how you feel, which is why I can’t do this. I don’t know what I feel for you, but it isn’t love, and if we keep doing this I’d be using you to make myself feel better. I’d be using you to forget.”

 

“Don’t I get a say in all this?” he demanded. “You think I don’t know that you don’t love me? You think I can’t see it? I know what I’m getting myself into, Buffy.”

 

Buffy shook her head emphatically. “No, you don’t. Spike, I—”

 

“Give it time,” he said. “You don’t know. In another few months, you might have changed your mind, and I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“I can’t love anyone!” Buffy burst out. “I have to make myself talk to Dawn, and to my friends. I don’t have the energy to give you anything. I don’t even know that I’ll be able to love anyone again. Everything is wrong here. It all hurts, and it’s too bright and too—it’s too everything, and not enough at the same time, and _I’m_ not enough! You’re going to figure out that I’m not going to love you, and then you’ll get pissed off and resentful…and you’ll go away.”

 

The words poured forth as though a dam had burst. Spike had managed to crack her mask somehow, and now there wasn’t any hiding. Buffy couldn’t seem to stop herself.

 

Spike started laughing. “Please tell me that you’re not comparing me to Captain Cardboard, because I might just have to kill you for that.”

 

“You’ll leave because I can’t give you what you need,” Buffy said, unfazed by his laughter. She was too intent on her own pain to notice that she’d just given Spike what he would probably consider the ultimate insult. “I was enough in heaven, Spike. I was complete, I was okay. I felt loved, and now that I’m here, I know that I have to…”

 

Tears were threatening again, and Buffy felt Spike’s hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently until she looked at him. “You’re enough.” She shook her head silently. “Stayed here when you were dead an’ I didn’t think you had a chance of coming back, didn’t I? What makes you think I’d run off when you’re alive?”

 

Buffy looked away. “Spike—”

 

“Look, you want to go back to what we were doing before, okay,” Spike said, his face twisting in disgust. He wasn’t sure who he was angrier at: Buffy or himself. “I’ll take what I can get.”

 

Buffy gave him a half laugh. “Yeah, right.”

 

“No, that is right, Summers,” Spike nearly snarled. “Told you. I’m sticking around for _you_ , not to get in your pants. Won’t deny that I’ll probably have a hard-on every time you’re anywhere close, but what else is new?”

 

“That’s not what I want,” Buffy said softly. “I just needed you to know how I feel. I needed—I have to be honest with someone.”

 

Spike snorted. “Might as well be with the guy who doesn’t exist.”

 

“You exist.” Buffy pulled away from him. “I have to go.”

 

Spike released her. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” He was more disappointed that she wasn’t staying than he would have liked to admit. “Go do whatever you have to do.”

 

“I’m meeting Tara,” Buffy said, feeling it necessary to give him an explanation, although she knew she didn’t owe him one. “I needed to talk to someone, and Willow…”

 

“Willow’s what?” Spike asked suspiciously. He’d always liked Willow, but raising the dead made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. She was getting more powerful than he liked to think about.

 

Buffy swallowed her words. She wanted to talk to someone about Willow, but she didn’t think that was going to be Spike. Then again, if not Spike, who else? She hated to burden Tara with her ex’s problems, and Xander and Anya were planning their wedding. Dawn was too young, of course. Who else was she going to tell?

 

“We could talk later,” she suggested. “On patrol.”

 

“Sure, if that’s what you want,” Spike said, cursing himself for a fool. He wanted to get back under her skirt—well, pants right now. He wanted to remind her of all she’d be missing if she didn’t come back to him.

 

“I have to go,” she repeated.

 

As she was leaving, Spike called out after her, “What did you tell them? Dawn and your friends, I mean.” Buffy turned, clearly unsure about what he was referring to. “About last night.”

 

“I told them I was fighting demons with you,” Buffy replied, leaving before he could more questions.

 

Maybe it wasn’t the entire truth, but Spike thought he could live with that.

 

~~~~~

 

Tara wasn’t sure what to expect from Buffy. Since she’d left Willow, Tara hadn’t seen much of anyone in the group. She wished she could say that she was surprised, but she wasn’t. Tara had always suspected that her membership in the Scoobies was contingent upon her relationship with Willow.

 

Well, Dawn accepted her, of course, but the girl was hungry for a little mothering. Over the summer, she’d treated Tara as a surrogate aunt, just as she’d treated Spike like a—something. Tara just knew that they were close, closer than you’d think was normal for a vampire and a teenage girl. With Buffy gone, they’d made up some sort of odd little family.

 

Now that Buffy was back, everything had changed.

 

It wasn’t entirely the Slayer’s fault. Tara had watched the fault lines emerge as soon as Buffy had returned. She was the planet around which their world had turned, and it had been a wrench to change things. It had completely changed the dynamics of their relationships with one another.

 

The magic had changed Willow.

 

“Tara?” Buffy stood next to her table. “Sorry I’m late. I had to—” She paused, then sighed. “I had to go see Spike.”

 

“Oh, that’s okay,” Tara assured her. “Did you—did you get some sleep?”

 

“Some,” Buffy replied. “Dawn put a movie in and we crashed on my bed. Or I crashed. Dawn just watched the movie.”

 

Tara smiled. “It’s good that you guys were able to spend some time together. I know Dawn’s been kind of lonely recently.”

 

A pang of guilt hit Buffy. She knew she wasn’t being a very good sister. “Yeah.”

 

“What did you want to talk about?” Tara prodded gently.

 

Buffy looked down at her hands. She had wanted to go to Tara because she seemed the one least likely to initiate an intervention. Buffy didn’t want an intervention. She wanted someone to tell her what the hell was going on.

 

Besides, as weird as Willow was about magic these days, it didn’t seem like a good idea to approach her.

 

“Something happened last night,” Buffy began. “It—Spike can hurt me.”

 

Tara’s eyes widened. “He hurt you?”

 

Buffy shook her head quickly. “No, not exactly. We were arguing, and I hit him, and Spike hit me back. I guess the chip just doesn’t work on me.” She winced. “He said I came back wrong.”

 

“Oh.” Tara bit her lip. “I can look into it for you,” she offered. “Can I ask why you didn’t go to Willow with this first?”

 

Buffy was silent for long enough that Tara didn’t think she was going to get an answer. When Buffy did speak finally, she sounded both angry and bewildered. “Willow hasn’t said anything about me being in heaven. She hasn’t apologized, or even acted like she was sorry at all. She acts like I’m supposed to be over it by now, and I’m not.”

 

Tara could have guessed as much. “Buffy, I’m really sorry for my part in it. If I had known—”

 

“I know,” Buffy replied, cutting off her apology. “That’s just it. I’m not so sure Willow would be able to say the same. And there’s more.”

 

Tara braced herself mentally. “Okay.”

 

“I slept with Spike.”

 

Tara just raised her eyebrows. “And?”

 

It was probably the best reaction Buffy could have gotten from anyone. No anger, no shock, nothing more than concerned interest. “That’s pretty much it right there,” Buffy admitted. “Last night, it wasn’t demons. It was—us. We—things got a little rough.”

 

“Did you enjoy it?” Tara asked bluntly.

 

Buffy let out a little laugh. “Yeah, I really did. It’s never been like that before. Spike—if anyone else knew, they’d hate me. They would tell me I’m wrong, I’m messed up; there would be an intervention.”

 

“Buffy, there’s nothing wrong with sleeping with Spike as long as you both want it,” Tara said. “I know how the others feel, but Spike’s done a lot of good. He was here all summer, and he took care of Dawn. He cares for you. I believe that.”

 

“I do too.” Buffy laughed. “I can’t believe I just said that, but I knew it before—before I died, you know? I asked him to be ready to die for Dawn, and he said he would. No hesitation. He was the only one I could ask.” She looked right into Tara’s eyes. “Spike’s the only one I trust right now, and I don’t know what that makes me. Does that make me evil?”

 

“No!” Tara said vehemently, careful to keep her voice down. “Buffy, you’re not evil. I don’t think Spike’s all that evil these days. He’s done a lot of good.”

 

“I don’t love him,” Buffy objected. “I’m—I slept with him, and I don’t love him. Doesn’t that make it wrong?”

 

“I guess that would depend on whether or not Spike’s okay with the situation,” Tara replied. “I think it’s okay to need another person even if you can’t give them anything more right then, as long as you’re honest about it. It doesn’t mean that won’t change.”

 

“And if it never changes?” she asked.

 

Tara gave her a sympathetic smile. “Maybe you should let Spike worry about that.”

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy didn’t see Spike anywhere near the abandoned house, and calling inside hadn’t brought an answer. The last thing she wanted to do was to try and crawl down into the basement in the dark. She’d promised that they were would meet for patrol, though. They needed to talk.

 

She’d talked more today than she had in months.

 

It had felt good, though—to tell Tara what had been going on, to come clean to someone other than Spike. Buffy felt a little guilty for that, too, since she hadn’t been there for Tara after her break-up with Willow. And, really, their problems had been more of Willow’s creation than Tara’s.

 

Something inside her had snapped last night. No, not snapped—broken free. Buffy still wasn’t sure what it all meant, and she wasn’t any happier, but the mask was gone and the gloves had come off. What did it matter anyway? Technically, she shouldn’t even be alive. Maybe she should look at this as a chance to live her life exactly the way she wanted to this time around.

 

“Hey, luv.”

 

Buffy turned to see the flare of a lighter that briefly illuminated Spike’s face as he lit a cigarette. “Hey. Where’d you go?”

 

He held up a fresh pack of cigarettes before shoving them in the pocket of his duster. “Ran out awhile ago.”

 

“I would have brought you some if I’d known.”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “You know, Buffy, don’t take this the wrong way, but… Why the hell are you being so considerate?”

 

“Because I want to,” she replied, feeling an enormous sense of freedom. Buffy was going to be nice to Spike. She was going to sleep with Spike because he seemed to be okay with that scenario. And if her friends found out, Buffy would have no problem blaming the whole thing on them for bringing her back in the first place. If they’d left her in heaven, she wouldn’t have had a chance to do either, would she?

 

“You hit your head last night?” Spike asked. He reached out to tip her head, apparently looking for any sign of damage. “Or maybe you’re sick?”

 

“Not sick,” Buffy replied. “And I don’t have a concussion, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s just that I’ve decided I don’t care anymore.”

 

“Care about what?”

 

“Any of this.” Buffy waived a hand. “Why should I? I’m supposed to be dead.”

 

Spike frowned in concern, not sure that he liked where this was going. “You’re not going apathetic on me, are you, pet?”

 

“No, Spike,” Buffy replied. “Apathetic is what I’ve been for the last few months. This is something else altogether.” She smiled, and it was a bittersweet expression—for once more sweet than bitter. “I’ll let you know what it is when I figure it out myself.”


	2. Adjustments

**“Go ahead when you waste your days with thinking/When you fall everyone stands/ Another day and you’ve had your fill of sinking/With the life held in your/Hands are shaking cold/These hands are meant to hold/Speak to me, when all you got to keep is strong/Move along, move along like I know you do/And even when your hope is gone/Move along, move along just to make it through…” ~The All-American Rejects, “Move Along”**

 

Even though Buffy hadn’t remained awake for very long, and had left in a rush right around three in the afternoon when she’d woken up, Dawn was still grateful that she’d made the attempt to hang out. Buffy had briefly explained that she was supposed to meet Spike, and then Tara, and then she was planning on heading out on patrol.

 

Dawn just wished that she could have convinced her sister to let her tag along on any of those engagements. She planned on waiting until Buffy was in a good mood to ask her about the patrol thing. Dawn was totally old enough to help out.

 

If Dawn had thought she had a chance of catching Spike at his crypt, she probably would have visited. She knew that Buffy had forbidden any more visits to Spike’s place, but Dawn was tired of not having him around.

 

She was tired of no one being around.

 

Spike had been there the night that she’d gotten caught out with Janice. He had helped rescue her—even though she hadn’t needed much rescuing. She’d been the one to stake Justin anyway. Dawn couldn’t help but imagine exactly what Spike would have said if everyone wasn’t so intent on making sure he wasn’t needed, though. He would have yelled at her a lot and threatened her with some really gruesome stuff, and then Dawn would have known that he cared whether or not she lived or died.

 

Instead, what she had gotten was a serious lecture from Giles on responsibility and growing up, and disapproving looks from some of the others. It made her wonder what would have happened if Justin had managed to turn her like he’d wanted.

 

Okay, so Dawn didn’t really want to be a vampire, because she knew how icky that would be, but Justin had at least wanted her around.

 

What she had now was a sister who seemed to be in a daze most of the time, Buffy’s friends who ignored her existence (except for Tara), and a vampire baby-sitter who was MIA. Even when she got caught with that amulet, no one had thought twice about why she was wearing it.

 

Dawn missed her mom. Really bad.

 

It just sucked that Buffy had forbidden her from going to Spike’s place, and had apparently told him he wasn’t welcome at their house. It wasn’t fair. Wasn’t half the house hers? Dawn didn’t understand why she couldn’t have Spike over, at least when Buffy was out patrolling.

 

Unless Buffy was patrolling with Spike, which could be why he wasn’t around. Buffy comes back and everybody forgets about Dawn.

 

She could _make_ Spike pay attention to her. Buffy tried to tell her what to do, but it wasn’t like she was her mother. Dawn could go to Spike’s crypt if she wanted. If she went during the day he wouldn’t be able to make her leave, and Buffy would never know.

 

It wasn’t like anybody ever noticed her.

 

“Hey, Dawnie,” Willow said as she entered the kitchen. “Watcha doing?”

 

Dawn shrugged. “Nothing much. I was just trying to figure out what I was going to have for dinner. We don’t have much.”

 

“Why don’t we go out?” Willow suggested. “We could get something to eat and go see a movie.”

 

Dawn smiled. “Really?”

 

“Really,” Willow replied. “I’ll just go finish getting ready, and you decide what you want to see.”

 

Dawn watched as Willow left the kitchen. Finally, there was someone who seemed to care.

 

~~~~~

 

“You know I can’t keep sneaking out to see you, right?”

 

“You don’t have to ‘sneak’ at all,” Spike pointed out. “You could just leave.”

 

It was their second cemetery of the evening, and the activity had been minimal. Buffy’s statement had come out of the blue, but Spike had been watching the wheels in her head turn. He’d been expecting something like this. Some excuse for why they couldn’t do whatever it was they were doing.

 

“What about Dawn?” Buffy asked. “I’m not comfortable leaving her by herself all the time.”

 

Spike shrugged. “I could come over to your house.”

 

“So we can bring my house down?”

 

“Or we could keep our shagging to my crypt, and then head back to your place. Or start there and finish it out at my place.” Spike refused to meet her eyes. “I don’t mind staying with Dawn, you know.”

 

Buffy was silent for a moment. “How close did you guys get?”

 

“Close.” Spike lit a cigarette to cover the obvious pain the memories brought. “I got fixated on you soon as you came down those stairs, luv, but before that the Bit’s what kept me going.”

 

“I have been keeping you pretty busy,” Buffy acknowledged. “I don’t know what to do with her, Spike.” She sighed. “I don’t even know how to talk to her.”

 

“What’s the trouble?” Spike asked. “You don’t have any problem talking to me.”

 

“You aren’t hurt when I tell you I wish I wasn’t here,” Buffy pointed out. “Dawn thinks that I should be so happy to be with her, I shouldn’t miss heaven.”

 

Spike gave her a sharp look. “You certain about that, Buffy? Because I’d be willing to bet that she might be more understanding than you think.”

 

“Why would she be?” Buffy asked, her tone mild. “Mom left her, I left her, Dad certainly didn’t deign to show up. Me telling her that I wish I was still dead isn’t going to make her happy.”

 

“You think she doesn’t already know?” Spike countered. “Anyone with eyes could tell that you’re not happy being here.”

 

“Well, I guess most of my friends are blind then,” Buffy muttered. “Not to mention Giles.”

 

“Watcher was doing what he thought was right,” Spike said. “And, no, that doesn’t make it less of a stupid move, but he had good intentions, for what it’s worth.”

 

“Not much.” Buffy was silent for a moment. “I think I’m going to have to get a job.”

 

Spike frowned. “Doing what?”

 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But Mom’s medical bills ate up most of her insurance money, and the money Giles gave us is only going to last so long.”

 

Spike was silent. These were matters he knew little about. At least, he hadn’t given it much thought. He had known that things weren’t great for the Slayer financially speaking, but he’d been too focused on getting her to acknowledge him as something other than a mere convenience to give her money troubles much thought.

 

He held in a sigh. In the past, keeping his girl happy had been simple. Buffy was going to be a lot more complicated. “What if I can do something about that?”

 

“I can’t take stolen money,” Buffy said simply. “If the social workers found out about it, I’d lose Dawn.”

 

“What if it’s not stolen?”

 

“Then we could talk.” She glanced over at him. They were supposed to be patrolling, but they’d done little more than wander around his cemetery, pretending to look for demons. “What are you thinking about?”

 

Spike shook his head. “Give me some time to think about it. Want to make sure I’m not blowing smoke before I get your hopes up.”

 

Buffy gave a little laugh. There wasn’t much humor in the sound. “I don’t think I have any hope to get up.” She gasped as she found herself slammed up against the wall of a mausoleum, Spike’s blue eyes boring into hers.

 

“What do you want, Slayer? What do you really want? To go around all the time, wishing you were back in heaven? Or do you want to bloody well live?”

 

His face didn’t shift, even though Buffy could see the fury in his eyes. Spike rarely showed his demonic side, she realized. Was he becoming more human? Or was it just that he had more control?

 

Angel had lost it the first time they kissed. Even after everything that had passed between them last night, though, Spike hadn’t lost it once. He could have bitten her, and he hadn’t.

 

Buffy didn’t reply to his question. She didn’t know the answer. She _did_ want to go back to heaven. And she really wanted to live. Instead, she smashed her mouth to his, her hands already fumbling at the fly of his jeans.

 

Spike’s hands were equally impatient, tugging roughly at her shirt, trying to get his hands on her warm skin. If this was what it took to keep Buffy there, he would give it to her. He’d give her everything.

 

It was brief. It was pleasure. It was pain.

 

If anyone had told Buffy a few years before that she’d be engaging in quick and dirty sex in the middle of a cemetery with Spike, she’d have had them checked into the nearest mental institution. Her fingers clutched his shoulders, her legs wrapped around his waist. Buffy could feel the rough concrete of the cold wall behind her, and she gasped as she felt the rush of the endorphins when she reached her climax.

 

Spike followed her a moment later, and they remained there, frozen in place, neither of them willing to let go. “I think we should try to find a bed next time,” Buffy finally said evenly.

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “You started it.”

 

“I think you were the one who finished it,” she replied.

 

He cut her off with a kiss that started out bruising and then gentled, turning soft and lingering. “I will always finish it,” he said, the double meaning obvious.

 

“Somebody’s going to catch us one of these days,” Buffy said as he withdrew. She tried to straighten out her clothing, wanting nothing more than to get home and shower.

 

“Then we’ll show them how it’s done.”

 

“You’re a pig, Spike.”

 

“You’re the one rolling in the mud, Slayer.”

 

There was an edge to his voice, and Buffy faced him. “You have a problem, Spike?”

 

“Don’t reckon anyone likes to be called names, _pet_.”

 

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

 

Suddenly, the air between them hummed with tension. The truth was that neither of them knew what was going on anymore. They didn’t know how they felt, how they wanted to feel. Where any of this was leading.

 

“I don’t know what you mean these days, Buffy.” Spike buckled his belt with savage jerks.

 

Buffy scowled at him. “Fine. You want to be all bad-moody, that’s your issue.” She stalked off towards her house, and Spike watched her go, debating as to whether or not to follow.

 

He finally sighed, rolled his eyes, and broke into a jog to catch up. Not that he was ready to completely let things go, but Buffy had kept her promise to meet him, and she’d been almost nice to him. It was a damn sight better than the way she’d been acting recently.

 

They walked in silence. Buffy had thought that the tension between them would have dissipated after they’d had sex. By all rights, if sex was all there was, she should have been able to get Spike out of her system. Instead, she found herself craving him even more.

 

Buffy didn’t even say anything once they reached her house. She simply held the door open for him in a silent invitation, which he took, looking tentative. Spike followed her back to the kitchen, where she saw the note Dawn had left on the fridge.

 

“Bit’s out?” Spike asked.

 

Buffy nodded. “Yeah, with Willow.”

 

Spike’s head shot up. “We got company.”

 

“What? Who?” Buffy stood still, trusting Spike’s superior hearing. He turned and started up the stairs, Buffy close at his heels. Spike immediately entered Willow’s room, blocking the intruder’s escape until Buffy could grab the girl.

 

“Amy?” Buffy asked. She hadn’t seen the former rat until now, since the girl had left before she arrived home the previous morning. “What are you doing here? Did Willow let you in?”

 

“Buffy,” Amy said, giving her a quick, nervous smile. “Really great to see you again. You know, I think I’m just going to—”

 

Buffy grabbed her by the shoulder, spinning her around and slamming her up against the wall. “What are you doing here?” She saw the bag that Amy was holding. “What do you have?”

 

“It’s not what you think!” Amy protested. “It’s just dried sage.”

 

Buffy tossed the bag to Spike, who took a whiff and nodded. “She’s telling the truth.”

 

Buffy started searching the girl’s pockets. “Okay, so you came over to steal kitchen spices?”

 

“It’s not like that,” Amy protested. “Willow would understand. She knows I need it.”

 

“Need what?” Buffy insisted, shaking her and then pushing her back up against the wall.

 

“Need _it_ ,” Amy repeated, as though that would make more sense. “Willow knows. She’s worse than I am.” With a resentful look, she muttered. “I was the one to introduce her to Rack, and now she’s his new favorite.”

 

“Rack?” Buffy asked.

 

Spike growled audibly. “You took her there, you stupid bint?”

 

“She’s probably there right now,” Amy replied, focusing on Spike for the first time.

 

Buffy slammed her up against the wall again, just because she wanted to. “Spike, do you know what the hell she’s talking about?”

 

“I know.” He shook his head, his face grim. “It’s not good.”

 

Buffy shoved Amy through the bedroom door, sending her careening into the hallway wall. “Get out of my house, Amy. Don’t come back.” She watched as Amy scampered away and then turned to Spike. “Tell me.”

 

“He’s bad news, Buffy. Bad reputation, even among the demon crowd. I’m not sure he’s even human anymore.”

 

“Let’s go, then.” Buffy stalked out of the room. “I can’t believe Willow would take Dawn there.”

 

“Let’s hope Rack doesn’t get a good look at the Bit,” Spike said quietly. “If he sees what she used to be…”

 

She froze, staring at him. “Do you really think—?”

 

“Dunno what to think,” Spike replied. “Either way, that’s not a place Nibblet ought to be.”

 

“Do you know where it is?”

 

“Think I can find it,” Spike replied, his tone holding just a shade of doubt. “It moves around a lot, and it’s cloaked. You have to be a Big Bad or a witch.”

 

Buffy gave him a tight little smile. “I guess we’ll just have to hope that you’re bad enough, won’t we?”

 

~~~~~

 

They moved through the darkness like the predators they were, perfectly in sync. Even if they didn’t seem to be able to hold a conversation without fighting, this was good.

 

It made Buffy wonder what was wrong with her, that she would be more comfortable in the dark than in the daylight—with a vampire, than with other people. She resolutely pushed that thought out of her mind. Tara was looking into the spell her friends had done to bring her back. Hopefully she would be able to tell Buffy if there was something wrong with her.

 

“Do you even like me?”

 

The question came out of nowhere, and Buffy’s head snapped over to look at him. “What are you talking about?”

 

“Do you even like me?” Spike asked again. “Half the time you seem pissed off that I’m even sharing your airspace, and the rest of the time you’re seeking me out like—”

 

“Like you’re a friend?” Buffy asked in an arch tone. Of course, that was mostly because she was thinking about how she wasn’t seeking out her “real” friends these days.

 

Spike’s face twisted in anger and hurt. “You don’t have to say it like that.”

 

“What? Like you’re more a friend to me right now than the people I went to high school with?”

 

His scarred eyebrow shot up in surprise. “What are you saying?”

 

“I told you I don’t know how I feel about all this right now, Spike,” Buffy asserted. “Just—does it really bother you that much?”

 

“What?”

 

“The name-calling thing? I didn’t think it mattered before.”

 

“Yeah, well, that was before.” Spike didn’t specify what it was supposed to be before.

 

Buffy decided that it might be time to change the subject. “So are we getting any closer?”

 

“Yeah, and you didn’t answer my question,” Spike replied, taking a sharp left turn down a street lined with dilapidated old buildings. If Buffy hadn’t been the Slayer, and Spike hadn’t been a vampire, it would definitely have been a part of town they wouldn’t have entered lightly.

 

“Yes, I do like you.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “I told you I enjoy spending time with you, didn’t I?”

 

Spike just grunted, not ready to give her any kind of satisfaction.

 

“Fine, be that way,” Buffy muttered.

 

Silence fell again. Buffy didn’t know how to talk to him or what to say. It was Spike, her mortal enemy and royal pain in the ass that she was trying to talk to. She had trouble maintaining open lines of communication with guys she actually had a bona fide relationship with. Spike was moody, touchy, and obviously not going anywhere. What the hell did a girl do with that?

 

Spike’s head was spinning. One minute Buffy was open and seemingly ready to embark on some sort of a relationship with him, and the next minute she had closed herself off again and was acting like a bitch.

 

He wanted to be there for her. Hell, Spike was just glad she was alive, but he had no idea what to do about it. Caught between wanting to worship at her feet and wanting to force her to treat him like something more than a convenient shoulder with benefits, he had no idea how to act or what to do. Spike wanted Buffy to be happy to be alive again, and he didn’t know how to get the job done. He half-wondered if maybe he was going about it the wrong way, but he didn’t know how else to get through to her, other than to stick close. If he was there, he could catch her at a weak moment and get under her defenses.

 

And if he could just get under her defenses, Spike was certain that she’d feel something for him, if she didn’t already. Buffy wouldn’t have slept with him unless there was something more there. She wasn’t that kind of girl.

 

“Here,” Spike said abruptly, feeling the air turn solid in front of him. The alley looked empty and desolate, but he could feel the energy swirling around him.

 

Buffy’s eyebrows went up. “I don’t see anything.”

 

“Told you it was cloaked,” Spike replied impatiently. “Come on.”

 

He disappeared inside. Buffy stared at the empty space for a moment, and then took a deep breath before following him. The waiting room they found themselves in was shabby, to say the least, and Buffy could smell several substances that she thought were better left unknown. Spike was standing next to Dawn, who was clutching his arm. The relief on her face was obvious.

 

“I don’t know what’s going on,” she said. “Willow brought me here. We were supposed to go to a movie together. She went in there and hasn’t come out.” Dawn gestured to the door on the other side of the room. “Are you guys going in after her?”

 

Buffy didn’t want to deal with this. She didn’t want to deal with Willow, who seemed to be in some kind of deep trouble. Buffy didn’t know what to do with a friend who was losing it.

 

A friend that she almost hated and definitely resented.

 

“Buffy?” Spike’s low voice cut through her thoughts. “Whatever we do about Red, we should get the Bit home.”

 

Buffy nodded. “You’re right. Why don’t you—”

 

Her suggestion got cut off by Willow’s stumbling out of the back room, Rack on her heels. “Buffy!” Willow said. Her eyes were completely black. Buffy didn’t like what she was seeing one bit. “Did you want to come to the movie, too?”

 

“We came to take Dawn home,” Buffy said quietly.

 

“Well, well, well,” Rack said. “Why don’t you introduce me to your friends, Strawberry?”

 

Buffy raised an eyebrow. “I’m the Slayer. I don’t think we need more introductions. Spike, get Dawn home. I’ll take care of Willow.”

 

“Dawn?” Rack asked, his eyes lighting on the teen. “Now there’s some power.”

 

Spike stepped in between them, growling audibly. “You’ll stay away from her if you know what’s good for you.”

 

Maybe Spike wasn’t quite the big, bad vampire he had been, but he could be quite intimidating when it came to taking care of Dawn or Buffy. It was Rack who turned away first, and his eyes lighted on Willow. “You won’t be welcome here again, Strawberry,” he said, his voice cold. “Not unless you can keep your friends away.”

 

“What?” Willow asked, his words startling her out of her stupor. “No!” By the time she’d finished her objection, all four of them were outside. “Why did you do that?” Willow asked angrily. “I needed that, Buffy!” She turned to go back inside, but met nothing but air.

 

“Take Dawn home, Spike,” Buffy said evenly. “I need to have a talk with Willow.”

 

Spike’s eyes were full of concern. “You sure, luv?”

 

“I’m sure.” Buffy gave him a smile. “And if you wouldn’t mind sticking around for a while, that would be nice.”

 

“I’ll stay ‘til you get home.” Spike put a hand on Dawn’s shoulder to steer her back towards Revello Drive. “Let’s get out of here, Bit.”

 

Dawn threw a concerned look back at Buffy, and then focused on Willow, her eyes reflecting both anger and confusion. She opened her mouth to say something, and then shut it with a snap. “Let’s go.”

 

Buffy turned to look at Willow. “I think we need to talk.”


	3. Who We Choose

**“When the rain comes it seems that everyone has gone away/When the night falls you wonder if you shouldn’t find someplace/To run and hide/Escape the pain/But hiding’s such a lonely thing to do…When the rain comes you blame it on the things that you have done/ When the storm fades you know that rain must fall on everyone/Rest awhile/It’ll be alright/ No one loves you like I do/I can’t stop the rain from falling down on you again/I can’t stop the rain/But I will hold you ‘til it goes away” ~Third Day, “When the Rain Comes”**

 

“You doing okay, Bit?” Spike asked as he walked her home.

 

Dawn shrugged. “I guess. What was that about, Spike? Why would Willow go there?”

 

Spike sighed. There were some lessons he’d never wanted Dawn to be forced to learn. “Red’s having some trouble, luv.”

 

“Is it like being on drugs?” Dawn asked. Willow would have been the one person that she was absolutely sure would never do anything like that.

 

Spike shook his head. “She might think that.”

 

“But you don’t?” Dawn pressed.

 

He hesitated, then shook his head. “What do I know? I’m just a vampire.”

 

“You spent all summer with us,” Dawn pointed out. “You know what’s going on.”

 

“The witch is very interested in controlling things,” Spike finally said, offering it as an observation. “She’s got a need to control everything around her, and the other side of things is that everyone likes to give up a bit of control now and then.”

 

“So she went to Rack so she didn’t have control even though that’s what she wants?” Dawn frowned. “Does that mean magic is bad? Because Tara—”

 

“Tara’s a good sort,” Spike interrupted. “She knows what she’s doing and she doesn’t cross boundaries better left alone.”

 

“Oh.” Dawn kicked at a rock in their path. “Spike? That guy, Rack? Is he going to come after me?”

 

“Not if he knows what’s good for him,” Spike growled. “I’ll make him wish he’d never been born if he lays one finger on you.”

 

Dawn touched his arm. “Spike?”

 

“Yeah, luv?” he asked, looking over at her.

 

“How come I never see you anymore?”

 

Spike opened his mouth to reply, and then stopped, obviously thinking better of what he was about to say. “Your sister doesn’t think it’s so good if you see a lot of me, Bit. I’m not a good influence on you.”

 

“Like Willow is?” Dawn challenged. “She’s living in our house.”

 

“Dawn—”

 

“I miss you.”

 

They had seen each other nearly every day while Buffy had been gone. Dawn had known that no matter what everyone else was doing—no matter who was too busy for her—Spike would be there. She missed being able to count on his presence.

 

“Couldn’t I sneak out or something?” she pleaded. “Like when we watched the meteor shower? I could even ask Buffy. Or we could talk to Tara. I bet she’d let us hang out over at her place. Please, Spike.”

 

Spike hesitated. Spending more time with Dawn meant spending less time with Buffy. Besides, if the Slayer got pissed off about him “corrupting” her little sister, it could bring their relationship to a close, such as it was.

 

But Dawn was looking at him with those huge eyes of hers, the same way she’d looked at him over the summer when she wanted something from him he didn’t want to give. Dawn had stuck by him, and Spike wanted to keep his promise.

 

He’d been remiss in his duties. Buffy had told him to stay away, and he’d followed her orders. Spike had been so focused on the Slayer that he’d lost sight of the girl who really did love him.

 

“I think sneaking out would pretty much prove how bad an influence I am,” Spike said regretfully. “But we’ll work something out, yeah? I’ll talk to your sister, and if that doesn’t work, we’ll go to Glinda. She might be willing to give us a hand.”

 

“Really?” Dawn asked, knowing that she probably sounded pathetic. As if to prove how not-pathetic she was, she added, “Not that I need somebody around all the time, because I don’t. I mean, I’m old enough to take care of myself now.”

 

Spike, who knew all too well how much Dawn liked having someone around, and how lonely things could get when no one seemed to want your presence, just smiled. “Still, it never hurts to have some company, does it?”

 

Dawn gave him a relieved smile. “No, it never does.”

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy stared at Willow, not recognizing the woman who stood in front of her. What had happened to change them both so drastically? Okay, so maybe she’d died and then been resurrected, but what was Willow’s excuse?

 

“You took Dawn into that place,” Buffy stated. “You could have gotten her killed.”

 

Willow scoffed. “Don’t be so melodramatic, Buffy. Dawn was fine. It didn’t hurt her to wait.”

 

“She shouldn’t have had to wait for you to get your fix!” Buffy shot back. “You had no right to take her there. It was dangerous.” She shook her head. “I’m not going to get into this with you, Will, not while you’re still high—or whatever it is you are.”

 

“I’m feeling good,” Willow replied. “And I know what I’m doing. You don’t have any right to tell me what I should be doing, Buffy. You can’t even keep track of Dawn.”

 

Buffy stepped back, hurt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“It means that you’re doing a real good parenting job when you’re never around, and Dawn can go off and nearly get herself turned,” Willow replied. “I don’t see how you have any room to talk when you’re the one who can’t seem to keep it together, Buf.”

 

“And whose fault is that?” Buffy shot back, hurt and angry, and ready to fight. If Willow wanted the gloves to come off, Buffy was willing to give her a fight. “I don’t think I have to remind you that you’re the one who brought me back, Willow.”

 

“I thought you were in hell!”

 

“You didn’t _think_!” Buffy said, the anger she’d been suppressing coming out in a flood. “I died to save the world, and you didn’t even hold a séance to make sure I was in need of saving. No, you decided you wanted me back, and you went ahead and made it happen. The big, powerful Willow, saving her friend from a fate worse than death. Well, I liked being dead, and most days I wish I was back there.”

 

“I was trying to help you!” Willow shouted.

 

Buffy snarled, “No, you weren’t. You just wanted to make things easier on yourself. It’s not so easy being the Slayer, is it?”

 

The fight probably would have gotten worse if they hadn’t heard the roar of a monster right about then. The beast Willow had inadvertently called up came galloping towards them, looking ready to rip them both to shreds.

 

“What is that thing?” Buffy demanded.

 

Willow shook her head, her anger receding in the face of her fear. “I don’t know! I saw it in my vision, and—”

 

“You brought it here,” Buffy interrupted.

 

And then the monster was upon them.

 

~~~~~

 

Xander watched as Anya flipped through the pages of her bridal magazine. “I just don’t understand why Buffy hasn’t shown up today. I thought we were supposed to be researching the frozen security guard.”

 

“Maybe she had other things to do, Xander,” Anya replied, a little tired of his constant out-loud thinking about where Buffy might be.

 

Xander frowned. “What other things? She’s the Slayer. It’s the Slayer’s job to take care of things like this.”

 

“If you’re so concerned, why don’t you call?” she suggested, turning a page. She still hadn’t managed to find suitable bridesmaids dresses, or pick out a color. Anya was fairly sure that the dresses needed to be ugly, since that would prevent anyone from outshining her on the big day.

 

Xander shrugged. “I did. No one’s answering the phone.”

 

“Then maybe you should go over there,” Anya said. If Xander went to check on Buffy not only would he put his mind to rest, but he would also get out of her hair so she could start making some decisions. Then maybe by the time he got home, he’d actually be able to focus on giving her orgasms.

 

He hesitated. “But what if they come here?”

 

“Then I’ll be here, and I’ll help,” Anya said patiently. Xander was beginning to get on her last nerve. She really did love him, but sometimes he irritated her to no end.

 

“Well, okay,” Xander said, leaving the shop slowly. Buffy had said that she was going to come by earlier, he was sure of it. Xander was worried about her. It wasn’t something he could put his finger on, exactly, but Buffy hadn’t been the same since she’d been resurrected.

 

Xander felt more than a twinge of guilt at that thought. Who could blame her for being a little off? If he’d been in heaven and then got dragged back to the Hellmouth, he would probably feel the same way.

 

He just wasn’t sure what to do for her. Xander wanted to offer her his support, but with Anya and her wedding preparations, plus the demands of his job, he didn’t have nearly as much time for her as he had back in high school.

 

Besides, what was he supposed to say to her? “Sorry we pulled you out of heaven, Buf. We had no idea.”

 

That was really where the guilt came in—when he started to think about how they might have found out, what they might have done to prevent it happening.

 

And there was the kicker. Xander didn’t want to prevent it. He wanted Buffy around, and yet every time he saw her, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. Which just led to more avoidance, which led to yet more guilt.

 

It was a vicious cycle.

 

The lights were on in the house when Xander arrived, although he was more than a little surprised when Spike opened the door. “What are you doing here?” he demanded. “Where’s Buffy?”

 

“She’s taking care of Red,” Spike replied. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Buffy was supposed to come to the Magic Box this afternoon,” Xander replied, hostility lacing his tone. “And what do you mean she’s taking care of Willow? What happened?”

 

“Willow almost got me killed,” Dawn said, coming out of the living room. “I think Buffy was going to yell at her.”

 

“Nibblet,” Spike said, his tone a gentle warning.

 

Dawn’s face took on a mulish expression. “What? It’s true.”

 

“We don’t know that.”

 

“Wait,” Xander said, stopping the incipient bickering. “What are you talking about?”

 

“Willow took me to see an evil sorcerer—” Dawn began, but Spike cut her off with a look.

 

“Red’s gotten herself into some trouble.” Spike sighed. “Look, you want to wait for the Slayer, you can.”

 

Xander glared at him. “Sure. I’ll wait for Buffy, and you can leave.”

 

“I’m not leaving,” Spike returned. “She asked me to wait for her.”

 

“She doesn’t need you around, Spike.”

 

“No?” Spike asked. “Who was it that saved her from burning to death, whelp?”

 

“You’re a dead weight, Spike.” Xander’s anger and guilt, as well as his vague fear of the changes he saw in his friend were focused on Spike. The vampire made such a handy target, after all.

 

“Xander, that’s enough.”

 

Buffy’s quiet voice had him turning. “What happened, Buffy?”

 

She had a scrape down one cheek, and she looked tired. “Willow conjured up a monster that nearly killed both of us,” she replied. “It wasn’t pretty.”

 

“Where’s Red?” Spike asked.

 

“Right behind me.” Buffy turned, and sure enough Willow came in the doorway behind her. She didn’t speak, instead going right towards the stairs and heading up.

 

“Willow?” Xander called, worried when she didn’t turn around. He looked at the Slayer. “Buffy, what happened?”

 

“I told you what happened, Xander,” Buffy replied quietly. “Willow’s going to be moving out.”

 

“What? You’re kicking Willow out?” Xander asked, incredulous. The Buffy he knew would never have kicked any of her friends out. He just didn’t understand what was happening.

 

Buffy took a deep breath. The epiphany from the other night—whatever it had really meant—was standing her in good stead. It had been easier than she’d thought it would be to insist that Willow find her own place. She wasn’t the one who had asked the girl to move in anyway. Yes, Buffy understood that Willow had done it to help out, but she wasn’t paying rent, and her presence wasn’t necessary any more.

 

Buffy had died to protect Dawn. She wasn’t going to allow anything or anyone to cheapen that sacrifice. If she had to be in this world, she’d make certain that Dawn was around too.

 

“Willow made her choice when she put Dawn in danger.” Buffy’s voice was even, perfectly modulated. She’d moved past angry to numb at this point. “She can’t stay here anymore.”

 

“Where is she going to go?” Xander asked in disbelief.

 

“I don’t know,” she replied. “I imagine you can ask her tomorrow. I think I’m going to go to bed, though. It’s late.”

 

Xander stood stock-still, unsure of what he ought to do next. He didn’t get it. Willow had put Dawn in danger? She’d conjured up a monster that almost killed Buffy? Buffy was kicking her out?

 

“You’re going to have to come by tomorrow, Xander,” Buffy repeated, ushering him out the door, past Spike who was trying—rather unsuccessfully—to hide a smirk.

 

“What about him?” Xander asked, gesturing at the vampire.

 

Buffy just shook her head. “He and I need to talk.” She gently pushed Xander out the door and shut it before he could protest again, sagging against it wearily.

 

“Better get to bed, Nibblet,” Spike said.

 

Her eyes went wide. “Spike! But—”

 

“Bed.”

 

That one word had her moving. Buffy envied him his easy command. Dawn knew when she couldn’t get away with pushing him further, but her sister seemed determined to question Buffy at every turn.

 

“You’re hurt,” Spike murmured, tilting her head so he could get a better look at the abrasion on her cheek.

 

“It’ll be gone by tomorrow,” Buffy said dismissively. “I’m fine.”

 

His thumb stroked the skin just below, sending a tingle to her belly. “You alright?”

 

She knew what he was asking, and Buffy didn’t know how to answer him. She wasn’t all right. Buffy wasn’t sure she’d ever be okay again. “Not really, but I guess there’s nothing we can do about that, is there?”

 

She’d said “we.” Spike wondered if that was as significant as it felt to him. “Oh, I don’t know about that.” He ran a hand down her hair. “Did you really want to talk?”

 

“No,” she admitted. “But I thought you probably wanted to.” Buffy turned to go into the kitchen, knowing that Spike would be close behind. “You were being crass, Spike.”

 

Spike grimaced. “Yeah, well, what do you expect from me, Slayer? I’m a vampire.”

 

“I don’t buy that,” Buffy shot back.

 

His eyebrows went up. “Excuse me?”

 

“Not about the vampire part,” Buffy said impatiently, waving a hand to dismiss that idea. “I meant the other part. It’s not like you’re that way all the time.”

 

“So you want me to change for you, is that it?” Spike asked, anger creeping into his tone. “Bloody hell, Buffy! I’m trying!”

 

“I know you are!” She shot back, frustrated that she couldn’t get her point across. “And, no, I don’t want you to change. I just wish…” Buffy trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

 

“You wish what?” Spike asked, modulating his tone with difficulty. It helped to remember that she’d asked him to see Dawn safely home, and that she had asked him to stay even though Xander had been forced to leave.

 

She sighed. “Look, Spike, I would have said the same thing to any guy I was with who made a comment like that. It wasn’t really about you. If you say crass things, I’ll probably tell you not to be such a jerk.”

 

Spike rolled his eyes, although he had to concede her point. “Does that mean I get to tell you when you’re being a bitch?”

 

Buffy opened her mouth to make an angry reply, and then stopped. It was a fair question, even though she didn’t want to give him the right answer. “What if I said no?” she asked hopefully.

 

He gave her a dirty look, although there was humor there as well. “Then I’d have to say you’re being your usual holier-than-thou self.”

 

“And then I’d have to come back with something really witty, but my brain is too tired for that tonight.”

 

They were both smiling reluctantly at this point, and the tension had all but dissipated. Spike nodded. “Then I’ll leave you to your bed, pet.”

 

“Spike?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Thanks. For tonight.”

 

Spike wasn’t quite sure what part of the night Buffy was referring to since they’d gone from shagging in the cemetery to rescuing Dawn, but he didn’t feel like asking. Maybe it was enough that she’d actually shown some gratitude for a change.

 

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see you around.”

 

Buffy watched as he let himself out her back door, biting back the urge to recall him. She wanted him to stay, to sleep with her, to tell her that she hadn’t made the wrong decision. Her resolution had been so clear—it still was, in a way. Willow couldn’t stay, not after the memory spell she had performed, and not after tonight’s escapade. This was the right choice.

 

But why did it feel so wrong?

 

~~~~~

 

Willow laid in the darkness and seethed. Why couldn’t Buffy understand that she had simply made a mistake? So she shouldn’t have taken Dawn to Rack’s. That had been bad. She hadn’t been thinking straight.

 

Really, going to Rack’s in the first place had been a bad decision. Taking the magical charge that he offered was the lazy way out. It was a rush, but it also meant that she had lost control. That’s all that had happened. If she had been in control, Willow never would have summoned up that monster, and she certainly never would have put Dawn in danger.

 

And maybe she _had_ taken Dawn to Rack’s, but she had been there the whole time. Willow never would have let Dawn get hurt.

 

Now she had to scramble to find housing near campus. Buffy had given her a week to leave, and she’d intimated that she was being generous. Right. Generous would have been to forgive and forget, just like they always did for her.

 

She would have to talk to Xander tomorrow, make him understand what had really happened. He would be on her side, once she explained. He would see that she hadn’t meant any harm.

 

Willow wondered what was going on between Spike and Buffy, and if that spark she’d seen between them had anything to do with Buffy’s decision. This could be Spike’s way of breaking the gang up again. He’d done it before, after all.

 

If that were what was going on, she’d fix it. Willow would fix him so he couldn’t hurt Buffy or Dawn, or turn them against their friends.

 

She just had to figure out the perfect solution first.


	4. Strength in Numbers

**“…When they say you’re/not that strong/Well you’re not that weak…There’s nothing left to prove/Nothing I won’t do/Nothing like the pain/I feel for you/Nothing left to hide/ Nothing left to fear/I am always here./What you want/What you lost/What you had/What is gone is over./What you’ve got/What you love/What you need is real./If it’s not enough/It’s not enough/It’s not enough/I’m sorry…” Our Lady Peace, “Not Enough”**

 

Dawn didn’t know if Spike had talked to Buffy about spending more time with her or not, but she was betting on not. It wasn’t like she blamed him for being obsessed. Dawn thought that if she’d loved a guy as much as Spike had loved Buffy, and he’d died, and then got brought back to life—well, she could understand his focus.

 

That didn’t mean she didn’t miss him. It also didn’t mean that she wasn’t just a little bit angry at Spike for forgetting all about her.

 

In any event, it seemed prudent to take matters into her own hands.

 

“Spike?” Dawn peered around the upper level of they crypt hesitantly. She was feeling a little anxious at this point. Thinking about dropping in on Spike had seemed like a good idea while she was daydreaming her way through a lecture on the Industrial Revolution. Now that Dawn was here, knowing how angry he’d be at her intrusion, it was more difficult to hold onto her bravery. “Are you here?”

 

“Where else would I be?”

 

His voice, coming straight out of the floor, caused Dawn to scream, dropping her backpack on the floor. “Spike!”

 

He smirked as he emerged from the trapdoor. “What are you doing here?”

 

“You scared me!” she accused.

 

Spike raised his eyebrows. “Evil vampire, Nibblet. What the hell did you expect?”

 

“For you to be around after my sister got back,” Dawn said, sounding sulky.

 

He sighed. “We talked about this, Dawn. Told you I’d speak to Buffy about things.” The mulish expression on her face suggested that she wasn’t mollified in the least. “What brought this on?”

 

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

 

“What? No!” Spike exclaimed. “Why would you—”

 

“That’s how Willow was treating me when I saw her this morning,” Dawn said. “Like I was too stupid to know that Rack wanted to—I don’t know. Do something. She was being all perky and nice like nothing had happened, but I’m not stupid. I know how bad it was.”

 

“’Course you do, luv,” Spike replied. “You’re not stupid.”

 

“And then I found out that there’s this big party Kirsty is having, and she invited everybody except for me,” Dawn continued. There was no one around to talk about her day with these days. After the way Willow had behaved, Dawn couldn’t talk to her. Tara was gone, Buffy was usually in her own world, and Xander and Anya were caught up in their wedding plans.

 

That left Spike, now that he seemed willing to hang out with her again, at least when she dropped in on him unannounced.

 

“I’m sorry, Bit,” Spike said awkwardly. He didn’t mind listening, but he wasn’t quite sure what to say. Was he supposed to fix it?

 

Dawn shrugged. “It’s okay. Well, it’s not, but there isn’t anything you can do about it.”

 

“Wish I could,” he said. Spike moved a little closer, reaching out to tentatively touch her cheek. They had become a little more comfortable touching one another over the summer. Once the first contact was made, Dawn moved closer, feeling his arms close around her hesitantly.

 

Tara still gave hugs, but Buffy never really did. Come to think of it, Buffy hadn’t really hugged her a lot before she’d died either. Their mom had been the demonstrative one. She and Buffy were more likely to get into a fight and yell at each other.

 

Giles had hugged her sometimes, before he went away too.

 

Spike could hear her sniffles, and he pulled back abruptly. “Hey, now. What’s this?”

 

“Sorry,” Dawn gulped, trying to wipe away the moisture as best she could with the back of her hand.

 

“Don’t be sorry,” Spike replied, his voice as gentle as it ever was. “What’s bothering you, Bit?”

 

Dawn shook her head. How immature would it sound to say she missed her mom?

 

“You missing Joyce?”

 

Dawn let out a shaky laugh. “Are you some kind of mind reader?”

 

“Wish I was,” Spike replied. “I’d love to know what was going on in your sister’s head.”

 

“Buffy’s weird.” Dawn dismissed Buffy’s eccentricities as only a younger sibling could. “She likes you.”

 

“You really think so?” Spike asked hopefully. “What makes you say that?”

 

Dawn shrugged. “Well, she made Xander leave last night, and she asked you to stay. She looks at you differently, too.”

 

“She does?” Spike had thought he was imagining it.

 

She settled down on his sarcophagus. “She was last night. Buffy definitely doesn’t hate you any more.” At his slightly glum expression, she encouraged, “That’s an improvement!”

 

“Suppose so.”

 

Dawn frowned. There was definitely more going on between her sister and Spike than she knew about. “How do you know if you’re in love with someone?”

 

Spike took a breath, sitting down next to her. It looked like it was going to be one of those conversations. He and Dawn didn’t often get serious, but it happened on occasion. “Dunno. I guess you just know. Why?”

 

“There’s a guy at school that I like, and I think he might like me, but I don’t know.”

 

Spike felt a jolt of alarm. “Why are you asking me about love?”

 

Dawn rolled her eyes. “Please, Spike. It’s just for future reference. It’s not a big deal.”

 

Spike decided not to push it. “Maybe you ought to be heading home. It’s gonna be dark soon.”

 

Dawn shook her head. “I don’t want to be in the house with Willow right now. I’m still mad at her for making me miss the movie, and I don’t want to pretend that everything is okay.”

 

“Where’s your sister?” Spike asked.

 

Dawn shrugged. “She went to meet up with Tara. I think they’re hanging out again.” Dawn brightened visibly. “Maybe if Willow moves out, Tara will come around more often.”

 

“That would be good for both of you,” Spike commented. There really wasn’t a way he could make her leave, and truth be told Spike enjoyed her company. It had been so long since they’d been able to see one another, and his dealings with Dawn were refreshingly straightforward.

 

“Maybe we could play gin?” Dawn suggested.

 

Spike knew how badly she cheated, but he couldn’t say no. It wasn’t like he hadn’t taught her every trick he knew.

 

Of course, what he hadn’t realized at the time was that Joyce had taught her daughter a few tricks as well.

 

“Right, but we’re playing for points, not money,” Spike said. “Your sister finds out I taught you to gamble, she’d kill me.”

 

“Okay.” Dawn was already trying to figure out a way around that. Last time she’d played gin with Spike, she’d made enough money to buy a new pair of jeans. “Person with the least points buys dinner.”

 

Spike sighed, unable to say no, and yet knowing that he was probably going to throw the game just to make sure Dawn got something decent to eat. Of course, if he fed Dawn, he’d have an excuse to feed Buffy, and the Slayer needed more meat on her bones. “Fine. I’ll deal first.”

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy sat down across from Tara, her hands gripping the warm mug. Tea wasn’t her favorite, but it was less expensive than a mocha, and money was still tight. She had no idea how she was going to make Christmas merry this year.

 

She also had no idea what she was going to do about the frost-monster-thing, or what she was going to say to Xander, or how to deal with Willow. Buffy thought it might be a bad sign that she couldn’t work up the energy to care.

 

“How are you?” Buffy asked. She thought she was doing pretty good to ask.

 

Tara gave her a smile. “I’m okay. Hanging in there. You?”

 

“About the same,” Buffy admitted. “Did you find anything?”

 

Tara hesitated, and then nodded. “It’s nothing bad, Buffy. It’s not a fundamental change, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

 

“Then I guess I can tell Spike that I’m not sleeping with him because I came back ‘wrong.’” Buffy stared down into the rapidly cooling liquid in her mug. She wasn’t certain whether she ought to be relieved or disappointed.

 

Tara winced. “Did he really say that?”

 

Buffy rolled her eyes. “You know Spike. He tends to let his mouth run without engaging his brain.” She gave a short laugh. “Of course, so do I. It’s amazing that we haven’t killed each other yet.”

 

“So you guys are still…”

 

“Whatever you want to call it,” Buffy admitted. “I guess I should probably let you know that Willow’s moving out.”

 

Tara’s face reflected her surprise. “What?”

 

“I didn’t know what else to do.” Buffy was quiet. “You know, she’s made mistakes with the magic before. The ‘my will be done’ spell almost got us all killed, and then with Olaf, not to mention the memory spell. I guess we always figured that since it was Willow, it wasn’t a big deal, but what she did with Dawn—”

 

“What did she do, Buffy?” Tara asked.

 

Buffy looked abashed. “I’m sorry, Tara. I’m unloading this on you, and—”

 

Tara put her hand over Buffy’s. “It’s okay. If you need to, I don’t mind. It hurts, but I don’t have any regrets on my end.”

 

Buffy nodded, and then continued. “She went to this guy’s—Rack’s—and she took Dawn with her. When we got there, the look on his face when he saw Dawn…” She trailed off.

 

Tara could just imagine. If Willow was visiting Rack, she’d fallen further than Tara had ever dreamed she would. “I don’t think he’d come after her,” Tara said quietly. “I’ve heard rumors, and he’s, well, he’s kind of lazy.”

 

Buffy smiled. “Lazy bad guys, huh? I could get used to that.” She gave Tara a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry.”

 

Tara shook her head. “It’s not your fault, Buffy.”

 

“Where are you staying?” Buffy asked. “I mean, you could come back to the house if you want once Willow leaves. If you need a place.”

 

“I don’t,” Tara replied gently. “I’ve got a little apartment not too far from campus. It’s not much, but I’ve got all my things there already.”

 

“I understand,” Buffy said. “You won’t be a stranger, though? I know how much Dawn enjoys seeing you. I mean, I know she’s missed you since—”

 

“I’ve missed her, too.” Tara made a face. “Things change so quickly.”

 

“Yeah, they do.” Buffy sighed as she stood. “I should be getting home.”

 

Tara rose as well. “I need to do some studying.” She hesitated. “Let me know a good time, and I’ll come by.” Her smile held a hint of teasing. “I could cook.”

 

Buffy smiled, and then laughed. “I take it someone told you about my cooking skills.”

 

“Or lack thereof.”

 

They looked at each other for a moment, two women who suddenly found themselves friends by default, rather than by choice. It was an odd position for both, and Tara impulsively gave Buffy a hug. “Hang in there.”

 

“You too.”

 

Buffy left the Espresso Pump feeling better than she had in a while.

 

~~~~~~

 

“You know I’d never let Dawn get hurt!” Willow insisted.

 

Xander had his doubts. He wanted to believe Willow, he really did. She was his oldest friend, and he really didn’t like the thought of Buffy hanging out with Spike so much. He was also thinking about the spells that Willow had done lately that had gone wrong. “I know you wouldn’t hurt Dawn intentionally,” he began. “But, Will, you put her in danger.”

 

“She was with me,” Willow replied.

 

“Look, if you want me to talk to Buffy, I will,” he finally said. “I think maybe she needs some space, though. What we did—”

 

“We did for her own good.” Willow had her resolve face on, but instead of being convincing, Xander found himself even more uncomfortable. He believed that _Willow_ believed that, but he didn’t. Not when Buffy drifted around, not when there wasn’t any life in her eyes.

 

Not when she would choose Spike over her friends. The friends who had pulled her out of heaven.

 

Spike had warned them. Xander hated that he was even thinking it, but Spike had told them that there were always consequences to magic, and it looked like they were facing them now.

 

Not that Xander would ever admit that Spike was right.

 

“Willow, Buffy’s not happy.” He said the words, and he knew they were nothing but the truth. They hurt to say, though.

 

“She would be if I could just fix it,” Willow said persuasively. “I could make it better.”

 

“No!” Xander said, standing and backing away from her. “You can’t just go messing around with people, not after what happened.”

 

“It went wrong. This time—”

 

“No.” Xander shook his head. “Leave it alone, Willow. Buffy will figure things out. Sometimes it takes her awhile, but she always comes back to us.”

 

He strode out of her campus dorm room, finally sparing a moment to wonder how she’d managed to find a piece of prime real estate like this so late in the semester. Willow’s room was just as nice as the one Buffy had given up when Joyce got sick. Xander had a feeling that he didn’t want to know how Willow had done it.

 

Xander took a deep breath. He had come immediately after work. Willow had told him how awkward things were, she’d sounded sorry for what had happened over the phone. She was anything but sorry, though. Willow was just so sure she was right, so sure she could fix things with a wave of her hand.

 

Thinking about what Willow had said, Xander knew that he needed to talk to Buffy. Pulling out his cell phone, he called the Magic Box. “Anya? Hey, I’m going to be late for dinner tonight. I’ve got to see Buffy.”

 

“Why?” Anya asked, sounding deeply suspicious. “What’s going on, Xander?”

 

“I think Willow might be planning to do another spell,” Xander replied. “I thought it might be a good idea to give Buffy a heads up.”

 

“It’s always the quiet ones you’ve got to watch out for,” Anya said. “Didn’t I tell you that?”

 

Xander bit back a sigh. “Yeah, you did, An. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

 

“Maybe you should just pick something up on the way home,” she suggested. “I’m getting hungry, and I’ve still got some errands to run after I close the shop.”

 

Xander knew Anya hated it when he put Buffy or Willow’s needs before hers. He didn’t quite understand it, since he was obviously attached to her. All she had to do was look at her hand to see it, but he also knew that he’d have some groveling to do later.

 

There would probably have to be props.

 

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised.

 

“Really?”

 

“Whatever you want,” he said, knowing how dangerous those words could be.

 

Anya was silent for a moment, and then said, “Okay, but Xander, we still have lots of wedding details to go over. I know it seems like the wedding is far away, but it’s really not.”

 

“I know it isn’t,” Xander replied. “I’ll be home in a little while.”

 

Now he just needed to go talk to the Slayer about his best friend. Sometimes Xander hated his life.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy had come back to an empty house. She couldn’t say that she minded Willow not being around, but Dawn’s absence concerned her. Her little sister hadn’t said anything about any after-school activities.

 

She decided to put the panic on hold until the sun went down, which it soon did with no sign of Dawn. Buffy was ready to go find Spike and have him help her hunt Dawn down when the two of them came waltzing through the front door.

 

“Where have you been?” Buffy demanded.

 

Dawn’s smile faded. “Buffy, I—”

 

“Couldn’t you have left a note?”

 

“I went to Spike’s after school,” Dawn replied. “And then I made him walk me home.”

 

Buffy took a deep breath. “What about calling?”

 

“Spike doesn’t have a phone.”

 

Buffy rounded on the vampire. “You. You’re getting a phone.”

 

Spike blinked. “Huh?”

 

“What if something like this happens again?” she asked. “Or what if I need to get a hold of you? You’re getting a phone.”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “That’s a little difficult to do in a crypt, luv.”

 

“Then get a cell phone, I don’t care.” Buffy narrowed her eyes. “But I want to know where my sister’s at when she’s gone after dark. If she’s with you, fine, but I want to know about it.”

 

Spike and Dawn exchanged a look. “So it’s okay if I hang out with Spike?” Dawn asked hopefully.

 

“Not all the time,” Buffy stipulated. “I don’t want you in the cemetery all the time, and I think it would definitely be better if you had some friends your own age. But I suppose on occasion it might be okay.”

 

Buffy was doing it for herself as much as for either Dawn or Spike. She’d seen Spike’s ability to get Dawn to do something as simple as go to bed the previous night. If Spike could take some of the parenting detail off her hands, so much the better.

 

“Well, it’s not like Nibblet could be there all the time anyway,” Spike asserted. “It’s not like I don’t have a life.”

 

“Like what? Watching _Passions_?” Dawn asked snidely.

 

“Spike’s allowed to find you irritating,” Buffy said. “And you shouldn’t bug him all the time.”

 

“I won’t,” Dawn replied, sounding a little sulky. “It’s not like I don’t have friends.”

 

“Good.” Buffy smiled. “What do you want for dinner?”

 

“Spike’s buying,” Dawn announced. “We played gin, and he lost.”

 

Buffy raised an eyebrow, amused when Spike got shamefaced. “She cheats.”

 

“And I wonder who taught her.” The idea of not having to think about cooking or feeding anyone was refreshing. “What are we eating?”

 

Spike shrugged. “Up to you, pet.”

 

“I was the one who won!” Dawn protested.

 

“Where do you want to eat, Dawn?” Buffy asked.

 

“Italian,” Dawn said firmly.

 

“Italian it is,” Spike agreed affably.

 

Dawn grinned. “I’ll go get changed.”

 

Buffy waited until she’d dashed up the stairs. “You really don’t have to take the two of us out.”

 

“And how long’s it been since you’ve had a decent meal, luv?” Spike asked. “You’re not eating nearly enough to my liking.”

 

“You’re saying I’m too skinny?” Buffy asked with the hint of a pout.

 

Spike rolled his eyes. “Like I think you’re anything but perfect.”

 

The moment hung between them, turning warm. Buffy was about to reply when she heard Xander’s voice in the front hall. “Buffy? Are you home?”

 

“Knew I should have locked that door,” Spike muttered.

 

“Be nice,” Buffy whispered. “We’re in the kitchen!”

 

Xander came through, grimacing when he saw Spike, but he didn’t say anything. “I think we might have a problem with Willow.”

 

“What kind of a problem?” Buffy asked.

 

“I helped her move today—”

 

“She moved already?” Buffy was surprised. She had expected Willow to try to stretch things out for as long as possible. “Where?”

 

“On campus,” Xander said. “And you wouldn’t believe the dorm room she got. She—Willow was talking about ‘fixing’ you.”

 

“Fixing me?” Buffy asked, her eyebrows going up. “Why would I need to be fixed?”

 

Xander hesitated. “You kicked Willow out, Buf. And, you know, the whole heaven thing… I think Willow wants to make it better.”

 

“You know how she can make it better?” Buffy asked. “She can leave it alone. I’m dealing, Xander. About the only thing that would help at this point is sending me back.”

 

Xander flinched. “Buffy…”

 

“I know you’re sorry, Xander,” she said, softening her tone. “Willow isn’t. She isn’t sorry for putting Dawn in danger. She thinks she can do no wrong, and that just isn’t true.”

 

Xander hesitated, glancing over at Spike. He wanted to know what Buffy was doing with the vampire, but he didn’t want to ask the question with Spike standing there.

 

Xander also got the feeling that he didn’t want to know the answer.

 

“I just wanted to let you know what she said.” Xander shrugged. “I don’t know if she’ll do anything, but at least you know.”

 

“Might want to get Glinda over here to do her mojo,” Spike suggested. “She might be able to put up a protection spell or something.”

 

Xander stared at him. “I thought you didn’t like magic.”

 

“Depends on what it’s for. Something like this, I think I can live with it, so to speak.”

 

“Are we going?” Dawn asked impatiently from the doorway. “If we don’t hurry, the restaurant is going to get really busy.”

 

“Grab our coats, Dawn,” Buffy ordered, then turned back to Xander. “Thanks for the warning, Xander. I doubt she’ll do anything, though.”

 

Xander watched as Buffy shrugged into the coat Dawn handed her. “We’ll see you later, Xan. Lock up behind you, okay?”

 

And they were gone. With Spike. Out to eat.

 

Xander shook his head. “Not again,” he muttered. “Wasn’t Angel enough?”


	5. Twisting Paths

**“…Tell me why the road keeps turning/When everything you want is straight ahead/And everything I thought worth learning/is forgotten when I see your face instead/I know why the heart gets lonely/Everytime you give your love away/And if you think that you are only/A shadow in the wind/Blowin’ ‘round but when/You let somebody in/they might fade away…” Sheryl Crow, “I Know Why”**

 

Dinner was a revelation. If Buffy had believed Spike incapable of being integrated into her life, it was eating out that put that fear to rest. Maybe it shouldn’t have been such a big deal, but it had been so long since Buffy had been out to a nice restaurant with anyone, let alone the guy she was sleeping with.

 

Okay, so maybe she wasn’t in love with Spike, but after dinner out, Buffy was starting to think that she might just be a little in like with him.

 

It was the way that Spike pulled her chair out for her without any hesitation. It was the way he ordered a huge meal for her when she was ready to just get a salad. It was in the way he teased Dawn and made her laugh, and in the way his sly grin had Buffy smiling too as he stole bits of food off of Dawn’s plate.

 

With Spike there, Buffy felt as though her rough edges were smoother. It was somehow easier to smile, to laugh, to talk with her sister. Spike provided a buffer between her and the rest of the world that eased her way.

 

And when Buffy and Dawn had eaten so much they could hardly move, Spike paid the bill in cash. The Slayer decided that she probably didn’t want to know where the money had come from. There were times when it was better to remain ignorant.

 

Spike walked them home like the gentleman he wasn’t. Or maybe he was. Buffy wasn’t so sure anymore. “You going on patrol?” he asked once they’d reached the front door.

 

“I don’t know,” Buffy said. “Dawn—”

 

“I’m good,” Dawn said quickly. “You guys should go patrol.” She smelled a romance brewing, and she wasn’t sure there was anything she wanted more. Dawn had felt as though she had a family again tonight. She wanted to keep it that way.

 

Spike tilted his head, waiting for Buffy’s decision. “So?”

 

She hesitated only another moment. “Sure. Let’s go.”

 

~~~~~

 

They did patrol. They even managed to dust a few vampires. And then they went back to Spike’s crypt where they tried out his bed.

 

It was fundamentally different, if only because it wasn’t nearly as impulsive on either side. Granted, they hadn’t really been able to keep their hands off one another while walking the cemeteries, but Spike had asked Buffy to come back to his place, and she had agreed, and then they had waited.

 

Not very long, but they had waited. It felt more like a date than something that was purely sex.

 

That was probably why, when Buffy laid back against Spike’s cool sheets, she couldn’t help but stare at him. Here was this guy she was sleeping with, and she was beginning to wonder if he wasn’t really a stranger in familiar clothing.

 

“Do I have something on my face?” he joked, sounding a little nervous under her scrutiny.

 

Buffy shook her head. “I just don’t know you.”

 

Spike’s expression turned puzzled, with just a touch of hurt. “I’ve never hidden who I am.”

 

“No, not that,” Buffy replied, frustrated that she couldn’t find the right words. She could never find the right words. She was action-girl, but action wasn’t helping her case. Her actions could be interpreted in any of a dozen different ways. “You have so many—what do they call them—faces?”

 

Spike frowned, and he decided to take a stab at interpreting her meaning. “Facets?”

 

“That’s it.” Buffy shook her head. “You have all these sides, and sometimes I feel like I don’t know who you are at all.”

 

“I’m not that complicated,” Spike replied. “Not much of me to figure out.”

 

“No.” Her hand traced circles on his chest unconsciously. “It’s not that simple. I used to think it was, but it’s not.”

 

Spike was uncertain about where she was going with this line of conversation. “That a bad thing?”

 

“I don’t think so.” She met his eyes. “Do you really think you can fit in my world, Spike?”

 

The way Buffy asked the question, Spike realized that she was seriously considering the idea. As if it had finally occurred to her that he belonged there. “What do you want me to say, Buffy?”

 

“I want you to tell me the truth.”

 

“The truth is that I love you enough to try, but I’m not the only one in this relationship.”

 

“Then what do you want?”

 

It was her tone that caused Spike to think that he might be able to risk honesty with her. She sounded as though she wanted to know. “I want you to try. I want you to treat me like a man, like I mean something to you, even if you don’t love me.”

 

He wasn’t asking for very much, and Buffy knew it. Spike could have demanded that she make him promises, that she tell him how she really felt, that she tell all her friends about them.

 

Spike asked for no more than he deserved.

 

“You mean something.” Buffy touched his cheek. “I wish I could tell you.”

 

Spike’s eyes glowed, a flame kindling. “You don’t have to.”

 

He bent to taste her, worshipping her body.

 

For the first time, Buffy accepted his adoration. She caught a glimpse of how he saw her, and she saw a bit of heaven. It scared her to death.

 

And it warmed her to the core.

 

~~~~~

 

Tara took a deep breath before knocking. She knew no one ever knocked on Spike’s door, but she felt odd not giving him some kind of a warning before barging in.

 

Not least because she wasn’t sure whether or not Buffy would be there in the middle of the afternoon.

 

She wasn’t really sure what she was doing at his crypt. It wasn’t like she had a plan for what to say, only that it had been months since she had seen him, and that seemed—wrong, somehow. Tara had seen him nearly every day over the summer, even if it was only to catch a glimpse of him. She didn’t like the idea of him being so completely excluded from the group. The further out he was, the less likely he would be able to offer Buffy what she needed.

 

Of course, how Tara was going to convince him of that…

 

“Tara?” Spike’s face betrayed his surprise. “What are you doing here, pet?”

 

“I came t-to t-talk to you.” In spite of her stutter, Tara was standing up straight, her shoulders back.

 

A smile touched his lips. “Sure, why not?” he muttered. “Come on in.” Spike gave her a sly smile. “I don’t bite.”

 

“At least, not me,” Tara responded, with a smug smile of her own.

 

Spike stared at her, and then gave an appreciative chuckle. “So she told you, did she?”

 

“She told me.” Tara regarded him calmly. “What are you going to do?”

 

“What do you think I’m goig’ to do?” Spike challenged. “It’s Buffy. I’m going to do whatever it takes.”

 

Tara wasn’t ready to back down. “What if it’s not you she needs, Spike? What if you’re not good for her?”

 

She could see the struggle in his eyes. It gave her hope, because it meant that Spike really did love her. He really did want the best for Buffy.

 

But he wanted _her_ , too.

 

“Dunno,” he finally said. “I wish I could say I’d give her up, walk away for her own good, if that’s what she needed, but I’m weak.” Spike’s jaw tightened. “And she _needs_ me, Glinda.”

 

“I believe she does.”

 

Those four words left a stunned silence in their wake. Spike’s eyebrow went straight up. “You were testing me,” he accused.

 

Tara smiled. “I had to know,” she said simply. “Buffy is going to need an ally. I think you might end up needing one as well.” Her eyes were direct, but they held a gentleness that Spike had rarely seen directed towards him. “I would support Buffy’s decision because it’s hers, but I wanted to know if I was going to have to pick up the pieces later.”

 

“You might,” Spike replied. “I’m not perfect.” He grinned. “Damn near, but not perfect.”

 

“But you love her.”

 

“More than anything,” Spike said seriously. “I’d never hurt her on purpose, Tara. You know that.”

 

“I do.” She sighed. “I would help Buffy no matter what, but I feel as though I owe her for…”

 

“Red—”

 

“I knew better.” Tara said it flatly. “When Dawn came to us wanting to resurrect Mrs. Summers, I told her no, and I gave her a number of reasons for it. Messing with those kinds of forces goes against everything I believe, and I let Willow talk me into it.”

 

Their eyes met, and a shared understanding passed between them. What had been done could not, and should not, be undone, but they could help to ameliorate the effects. “So you got any good advice?” Spike asked.

 

“Yes, I do,” Tara replied. “You’re going to have to do everything right, Spike. Most people can afford to make mistakes. You can’t. If you force Buffy to choose between you and her duty, it could destroy her. You’re the only one she trusts right now.”

 

Spike looked down at the ground, then back up, taking a deep breath. “Right. So where do I start?”

 

Tara just shook her head. “It’s not where you start, Spike. It’s where you end up.” She shrugged. “I just wanted to tell you that if you ever need to talk, or if you need to double-check something, you can always come to me.”

 

Spike nodded slowly. “You’re good people, Tara. You know that?” He smiled when she flushed. “I do have something I want to run by you.”

 

Tara was a little surprised to be taken up on her offer so soon, but the conversation had gone so well up to this point that she didn’t think it could hurt. “Shoot.”

 

“I’ve got a plan to get Buffy some money.”

 

~~~~~

 

“I think we should have Tara and Spike over for Christmas.”

 

The suggestion came out of the blue, and Buffy’s head shot up. Thankfully, she hadn’t been forced to cook, since they still had leftovers from the restaurant the previous night, which were just as good the second time around. The Slayer was fairly sure that she should be able to cook. How hard was it to follow a recipe, after all? Even so, she burned two out of three meals, and the rest just didn’t taste right.

 

Of course, food in general just didn’t taste right since she’d come back. It was one of the reasons that she wasn’t eating much these days.

 

“Dawn, I don’t—”

 

“Why can’t we?” Dawn asked stubbornly. “They’re part of our family, too.”

 

“Willow and Xander will probably be here,” Buffy reminded her gently. “I’m just not sure that it’s a good idea.”

 

“Why should Tara and Spike have to be alone for Christmas just because Xander and Willow are being stupid?” Dawn demanded. “It’s half my house, and so it should be half my holiday. I want to invite them.”

 

Buffy sighed, putting her head in her hands. “I don’t want a big fight over this, Dawnie. You know what will happen if we invite everyone.”

 

“So because Tara and Spike didn’t do anything wrong, _they_ get the shaft?” Dawn’s arms were crossed in front of her chest, and she tossed her hair impatiently. “Besides, Willow’s Jewish. She shouldn’t be celebrating Christmas anyway.”

 

Buffy took a deep breath. “Dawn—”

 

“Why can’t we have them for Christmas Eve at least?” Dawn pleaded, suddenly dropping the stubborn, bratty little sister act. She’d perfected the technique on Spike over the summer. Ask for something you knew you’d never get first, act like you’re not backing down, and then ask for a reasonable alternative.

 

It looked like it might work on Buffy, because her sister was definitely softening. “I don’t know, Dawnie. I’m not sure that Christmas is going to be very cheerful around here this year.”

 

Dawn swallowed hard. “But, Buffy, it’s the first Christmas since Mom—please. Even if it’s not much, I just want Tara and Spike here. They took care of me, and I hate that they’ll be by themselves.”

 

“Christmas Day,” Buffy said decidedly. “Mom always had guests over on Christmas Eve, and I’m guessing that Xander and the others will want to come over that night.” She made a face. “We’ll figure something out, food-wise, but Christmas you can ask Spike and Tara over.”

 

Sensing a chink in her sister’s armor, Dawn pressed, “You could have Spike stay over on Christmas Eve. That way he’d be here in the morning, and he wouldn’t have to worry about the sunlight.”

 

Buffy opened her mouth to give an unequivocal no, and then stopped. Why shouldn’t she ask Spike to join them? He wasn’t actively fighting with her friends these days. They were capable of tolerating each other for a few hours. Besides, if anybody complained about his presence, Buffy would just blame Dawn and her need to have everyone there to try and fill the void Joyce’s absence left.

 

Not that it would ever be filled, but they could gloss over the hole for a little while.

 

“I’ll think about it.”

 

Dawn beamed. She was halfway there already.

 

~~~~~

 

“What are we doing for Christmas, Xander?” Anya asked.

 

Xander frowned. “We’re spending Christmas with Buffy.” It was what they always did, or at least what he’d been doing for the last couple of years.

 

Anya held in a sigh. She’d been reading about marriage in her bridal magazines. The December issues talked about how every couple should create their own traditions, and Anya was fairly certain that they didn’t have any. Well, there was the Naughty Nurse outfit. There was some tradition there, but that was about it.

 

Somehow, she was fairly certain that wasn’t what the magazines were talking about.

 

“Maybe we should do something different,” Anya suggested. “We don’t have our own traditions, Xander. Couples should have traditions. It brings them closer together.”

 

Xander had no idea where this was coming from. If he had to hazard a guess, he’d say it was Anya’s magazines that she seemed to like so much. “Anya, we do have a tradition. We spend Christmas with Buffy.”

 

“It’s always Buffy,” Anya said. “Or Willow. What about _us_ , Xander? What about putting our relationship first?”

 

“Buffy’s like family, An,” Xander explained. “You spend Christmas with family.”

 

“You spend Christmas with the people you love most,” Anya persisted. “We’re going to be a family.”

 

It was the fact that Anya’s voice held a hint of hurt that had Xander thinking he might need to make a concession. “What do you want to do?”

 

“I don’t know,” Anya replied. Then, giving it some thought, she suggested, “Why couldn’t we take a trip? Just a few days with just the two of us.” It sounded like the perfect way to spend the holiday. Away from Sunnydale, from the Hellmouth, from the Slayer and Xander’s friends. Anya was tired of continually feeling as though she had to take second place to whatever new emergency came up.

 

She was tired of Xander choosing to spend time with anyone but her. He came to her for sex and nothing else.

 

“Where would we go?” he asked, starting to think about it. If they took a trip, he wouldn’t have to make the obligatory visit to his parents’ place. He wouldn’t have to think about the fact that if they hadn’t pulled Buffy out of heaven, she would be happy right now. In fact, Xander wouldn’t have to think about Willow and her disturbing disregard for the decisions of others, or work, or any of the other thousand little things that plagued him on a daily basis.

 

Not to mention the fact that the opportunity to get away from the Hellmouth sounded nice.

 

“Maybe San Francisco?” Anya suggested hopefully. “I’ve been doing a lot of reading, and that sounds like our best option. I have a friend who can get us flights and hotel rooms very inexpensively.”

 

Xander considered it for a moment, and then decided that they ought to do it. Maybe a little alone time with Anya was exactly what he needed. They could reconnect, and he could set aside those niggling little fears that Sweet had made him sing about.

 

Maybe it would be just the thing to help him make the right decision for both of them. “Okay, An. Let’s do it.”

 

Anya hugged him hard, and then kissed him, showing Xander her appreciation. She figured it never hurt to use a little positive reinforcement.

 

This trip would be exactly what they needed.


	6. Fumbling in the Dark

**“She looks over her shoulder with a half specific glare/As if it were the past/An interception of intentions from a once familiar path/A promise broken in half/So she let go…And it was like she said/A chance to learn instead/Of staying in the lines and never knowing why/She stumbles through the door/Were the angels fighting demons in the corner of her room/Or was it happenstance/That she would catch a glimpse of loving safety more than life/A faithless circumstance/So she let go…” Sarah Masen, “She Stumbles Through the Door”**

 

“Hello, Buffy.”

 

Willow’s voice was cool. Buffy wasn’t quite sure what to do with that. Willow had never been cold. Angry, frustrated, excited, you name it, but not cold.

 

Buffy was beginning to think that this really wasn’t Willow anymore.

 

“Hey. Xander said I could find you here.” Buffy looked past Willow’s shoulder into the dorm room. It looked nice, nicer than Buffy thought she’d be able to manage in just a couple of days. What had Willow been using magic for now? “This is nice.”

 

“It’s okay,” Willow said dismissively, ignoring the fact that it was probably one of the nicest dorm rooms on campus. “Did you want something?”

 

Buffy grimaced, realizing that this was how they were going to play it. Willow was going to be cool and aloof until she apologized for what she said.

 

Well, too bad. Buffy wasn’t feeling sorry.

 

“I just wanted to know if you were still coming for Christmas Eve,” Buffy said. “You’re still welcome, and that’s when we’re doing dinner or whatever.”

 

Willow’s face softened slightly, but she shook her head. “I’ve already made other plans. With friends.”

 

“Oh, right,” Buffy said, feeling the rebuff. She didn’t like being on the outs with Willow. She wanted to make things better, but she didn’t want to do it at the expense of what she felt was right.

 

Willow had needed to move out. She needed to do something about her magic use, which seemed out of control. And Buffy wouldn’t mind if Willow apologized for pulling her out of heaven and actually meant it rather than offering rationalizations.

 

“Maybe we could do something for New Years?” Willow suggested.

 

Buffy nodded. “Yeah, that would be good. I, uh, I guess I’ll see you later.”

 

“Yeah, I’ve got some studying to do,” Willow replied. “I’ll see you, Buffy.”

 

Buffy watched the door close, realizing that Willow hadn’t even invited her in.

 

~~~~~

 

“Willow’s still a little angry about you asking her to move out, Buffy,” Xander consoled her later. He wasn’t really used to being in the middle of Buffy and Willow. He’d been caught between Anya and Willow plenty, but this was new. Buffy had asked him to come over after he got off work, telling him that she’d seen Willow and that she wanted to talk to him.

 

He wasn’t sure what to think about Willow’s response to Buffy. He knew that Willow was still angry at Buffy, angrier than he’d ever seen her, actually.

 

It made him wonder what happened to the girl who so rarely became upset that her anger was enough to stop Angel and Giles in their tracks.

 

Buffy frowned. “Surely she sees that taking Dawn to Rack’s wasn’t smart, Xander. I couldn’t let her stay in the house after she put Dawn in danger. Not to mention that memory spell! She could have gotten all of us killed.”

 

Xander shrugged uncomfortably. “It’s Willow. You know she wouldn’t hurt Dawn, or you.”

 

“But she did,” Buffy replied. “I just don’t understand why she can’t see that.”

 

Xander was beginning to get twitchy. He didn’t like being in the middle, and they were talking about something he had been involved in, too. Maybe resurrecting Buffy had been Willow’s idea, but he’d been behind it. He still wasn’t all that sorry she was back.

 

“I’m sure she does.” Xander managed a crooked smile. “Give her a little time. With Tara breaking up with her, and you kicking her out, she’s not a happy witch.”

 

That worried Buffy, honestly. When Willow felt like people weren’t feeling the way she wanted them to feel, she had a tendency to see if magic wouldn’t speed up the process. She didn’t feel as though she could explain her concerns to Xander, however. Not when he seemed pretty intent on excusing Willow’s actions.

 

“Yeah, I know. She just needs some time,” Buffy echoed, wishing that her friends had done her the same courtesy when she’d first crawled out of her grave. “I wanted to talk to you about Christmas Eve.”

 

“I wanted to talk to you about that, too,” Xander said. “Anya wants to take a trip, and I think it would be a good idea.”

 

Buffy blinked. “A trip?”

 

“She wants us to have some time alone together,” Xander explained hastily. “With the wedding coming up, we’ve both been pretty busy. It’s probably an idea she got out of one of her bridal magazines, but I think it might be a good one.”

 

“Sure, you should do that,” Buffy said, trying to swallow her disappointment. It wasn’t like she’d been all that excited about having the gang over for Christmas, but it still felt as though they were abandoning her.

 

Was that stupid? And didn’t they remember that this was the first holiday season without her mom?

 

Xander gave her another crooked grin and a one-armed hug. “We’ll have to do something for New Years, though. Anya and I will be back by then.”

 

“Of course,” Buffy replied. “Willow said she might want to do something for New Years, too.”

 

Xander glanced at his watch. “Oh, hey, I have to go. I’m meeting Anya. We’re supposed to talk about the flower arrangements or invitations or something. I’ll see you later.”

 

Buffy gave him a half-hearted goodbye, not quite sure what to think. She knew that Xander hadn’t planned to hurt her. Far from it. He was marrying Anya; they should spend time together. Besides, it wasn’t like she had been looking forward to cooking or anything.

 

She gulped down a sob and put her head on her arms as the grief threatened to overwhelm her. Buffy wanted her mom.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike went around to the back of the house. Although he wanted to present his plan for coming up with some cash to Buffy, Spike still wasn’t sure that it was going to work. He figured that there was a good possibility, but he didn’t want to get her hopes up.

 

Maybe he could surprise her. Solving all her financial problems would be quite the Christmas gift.

 

He knocked softly on the glass, trying the knob when he didn’t get an answer. The door opened easily under his hand, and he frowned, wondering why Buffy had left her door unlocked. Anyone could have walked inside.

 

“Buffy?”

 

Spike didn’t get a response. He knew that the Bit was with Tara. She had mentioned feeding the girl dinner to give Buffy a break. They had discussed taking care of Dawn more often between the two of them, thinking that Buffy probably needed some relief from the pressure of parenting. Dawn was a good kid, but she got on Buffy’s nerves without trying too hard.

 

“Slayer? You here?” Spike wandered into the living room. He could see Buffy’s still figure curled up on the couch, and he felt a thrill of fear until he caught the faint sound of her heart beating. “Buffy?”

 

She was sleeping, he realized, and Spike could see the traces of tears on her cheeks. With a gentle hand, he brushed back her hair. “Oh, luv,” he murmured, wishing that there was something he could do to ease her pain.

 

It was all he really wanted these days.

 

“Spike?” Buffy groaned, her eyes fluttering open. “What are you doing here? What time is it?”

 

“Nearing ten,” he said. “Why don’t you go up to bed? I’ll stay until the Bit gets home.”

 

She shook her head. “No, I’m fine. I must have fallen asleep.” Buffy sat up, rubbing at her sticky eyes. She knew she probably looked terrible.

 

Spike’s hand smoothed her hair back. “Have you eaten?”

 

“Huh?” Buffy asked. “No, I—”

 

“Why don’t you let me get something for you?”

 

“You can cook?” Buffy asked, incredulous.

 

Spike sighed. “Buffy, I like food, and I did take care of Dawn. Didn’t have to cook very often, but I had to keep her from poisoning herself the nights the witches were out. Come on.”

 

Amazingly enough, she didn’t argue. She let Spike pull her up off the couch. It felt so good to be the one getting taken care of, for once. After the day she’d just had, Buffy felt like she deserved a little TLC.

 

“Want to tell me what happened?”

 

Buffy really didn’t, but she had promised Dawn that she would ask Spike to come over on Christmas. There certainly weren’t any obstacles preventing him from spending the night before at their house now. “I asked Willow and Xander to come over on Christmas Eve.”

 

“They said no, and that they had other plans,” Spike guessed, looking through Buffy’s cupboards. “Where’s your food?”

 

“We don’t really have any,” Buffy replied. “And, yes, that’s exactly what they said. Willow’s still mad, and Xander’s kind of weird around me. Ever since they found out that I wasn’t in hell.”

 

Spike shrugged. “Well, it would make sense. He’s partly responsible for you being miserable.”

 

Buffy sighed. “I know, it shouldn’t even be that big of a deal. It’s not like we’ve spent every Christmas together or anything. It’s just…”

 

“This is the first one without your mum, and you were all together last year.” Spike didn’t have to guess this time.

 

Buffy frowned. “How did you know about that?”

 

“Was watching you, wasn’t I?” Spike responded, sounding just a little sheepish.

 

There was still a large part of Buffy that was squicked by the idea of Spike stalking her, and yet she couldn’t fault him. Not when she’d seen the possible end result of his devotion. She decided to let the reference to his stalker-tendencies slide. Instead, she changed the subject.

 

“Dawn wanted me to invite you for Christmas.”

 

“Because your superfriends can’t come?”

 

Spike’s snide tone didn’t quite hide the hurt. Buffy rolled her eyes. He could be so freaking sensitive. “No, Dawn just wants you here because she can’t stand the thought of you being alone for Christmas.”

 

“Did you tell her that vampires don’t celebrate?” Spike shot back.

 

Buffy refused to be drawn into an argument. She was just too tired tonight; there was no energy to spare soothing Spike’s fragile ego. “Actually, I told her that I’d think about it.”

 

Spike wasn’t sure he wanted to be placated, but he hated seeing that defeated expression on his her face. “So have you come to a decision?”

 

“Both you and Tara are invited,” Buffy replied. “Since Xander and Willow aren’t going to be here, I won’t have to worry about juggling people.”

 

Spike winced, realizing that it wasn’t only his presence that could make things uncomfortable for Buffy. “You don’t have to ask me, luv, if it makes things easier on you. I’ll tell Dawn I’ve got something else.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “No, Dawn wants you guys here, and she was right. It’s half her house, so she should be able to have who she wants. From what she’s said, you’re pretty much family.”

 

He shrugged. “Yeah, well, we looked after each other.” Spike fixed her with a dirty look. “You don’t have any food in the house.”

 

Buffy winced. “I haven’t really had time to go grocery shopping, and I burn anything I cook, so there doesn’t seem to be much point.”

 

“Let’s get you fed, then,” Spike said.

 

Buffy tried for a cheerful smile. “Spike, I’m really not all that hungry.”

 

“You need to eat,” he insisted.

 

“Spike—”

 

“What’s the real problem, Buffy?” He gave her a sharp look. “Is it money? Because I can swing a couple bags of groceries.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “No, I—” At the expression on his face, she sighed. “Things are tight, and with Christmas coming up…”

 

“I can fix it, Buffy.”

 

She shook her head. “Spike, no. I can’t accept that.”

 

“It’s not stolen,” he assured her. “Talked to Tara about it, and she thought it was a good idea. I didn’t want to say anything just yet. Wanted it to be a surprise.”

 

“Spike—”

 

“Look, if I can manage it, I should have it taken care of within the week, just in time for your Christmas shopping.”

 

“How am I supposed to explain that to the social workers, Spike?” Buffy asked. “I can’t just suddenly come up with a bunch of money.”

 

“Tell them a rich relative died and left you a trust fund. That’s not so unusual. I can even manage  the paperwork somehow.”

 

“I can’t take that from you,” Buffy replied. “It’s too much.”

 

Spike laid his hand over hers where it rested on the counter. “Buffy, I would do just about anything for you, up to and including taking on a Hellgod. Digging up some buried treasure isn’t much.”

 

“What about you?” Buffy asked stubbornly. “I’m not taking all your money.”

 

Spike chuckled. “If you’d seen what I’ve seen, you would know that’s just not possible. Trust me, luv, you won’t be depriving me of anything.”

 

“So where are you getting this buried treasure?” Buffy asked, suddenly curious in spite of herself.

 

Spike just gave her an enigmatic smile. “Just wait and see.”

 

~~~~~~

 

It wasn’t that Spike hadn’t given thought to going back for the treasure that had come with the Gem of Amara, it just hadn’t been worth the trouble. One of the tunnels leading to the cave had been blocked, and getting to the treasure would have resulted in a great deal of personal risk. As long as he could keep himself in blood and smokes with an occasional game of poker or getting the Slayer to pay him for his help, Spike hadn’t seen the need to risk life and limb.

 

The very idea of getting stuck in one of those tunnels, with no way out, slowly starving until there was nothing left of him—well, it was enough to give him nightmares.

 

If it would help Buffy, though, it would be worth it.

 

Spike had told her not to look for him for a few days while he got things settled. He’d refused to tell her where he was going, even though it might be a good idea for somebody to have a clue where he was if he got stuck. The last thing he wanted was for Buffy to come after him and get killed by falling rocks.

 

At least, Spike thought it was a bad idea for the Slayer to know. She was certain to get impatient and then put herself in danger. Clem, on the other hand, could be trusted to do as he asked, and so he’d left word with the gentle demon. Clem was supposed to meet him on the other end in a day’s time, and if Spike didn’t show up, he was to get help.

 

Spike had no idea what kind of help Clem would be able to come up with, but he was certain to show up with enough buddies to dig Spike out anyway.

 

Spike just hoped that it wouldn’t come to that. If it did, Spike would be stuck paying them all off, which would put a serious dent in the load he brought out.

 

The tunnels were just as bad as he’d expected them to be. Spike had to shift quite a bit of rock in at least four locations to get back to the cavern where the treasure was.

 

It was the third blockage that nearly trapped him under a pile of rubble. Spike had to scramble through the opening he’d made to avoid being crushed. He turned to look at the slide, spitting dust out of his mouth. “Bugger,” he muttered, along with a few other choice comments.

 

He could have given up at that point, but Spike was on a mission. He kept going.

 

The cavern itself had been perfectly preserved. Everything looked just as he remembered it, and Spike began sifting through the treasure to find the pieces that would bring the most money. Although he would probably be able to find his way back, he’d rather not have to make the trek again. The best way to deal with the Slayer’s financial needs, as well as his own, would be to take the items of highest value, invest the proceeds, and allow Buffy and Dawn to live on the interest. Spike was planning on doing the same with his own share, although he didn’t need much.

 

He’d always been able to get money when he needed it. Most of the time it wasn’t worth the effort, but now that Buffy seemed willing to at least consider letting him into her life, Spike figured he needed to make it worth her while.

 

Spike had been giving things a lot of thought. He had no plans to completely change who he was, but there were certain concessions he could make that would make things easier for Buffy.

 

Buffy had insisted on him getting a phone, which took money. Spike had also been giving serious thought to having some place other than the crypt, something a little more posh. Having a real place might also ease Buffy’s mind about Dawn coming around more often.

 

They were such small things, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t be the Big Bad with a cell phone and an apartment. Bottom line, Tara had been right. Spike needed to do this right, because he didn’t want to risk this fragile thing that he and Buffy had wrought.

 

It was spun glass right now, but give it time and it could be something substantial.

 

Spike put the last of the loot he could feasibly carry in the second bag and looked around to make sure he hadn’t missed anything important. Almost without thinking, he picked up a necklace and stuck it in his pocket, thinking that he might be able to give it to Buffy as a gift. Maybe for her birthday, since he was carrying her Christmas present.

 

With a deep breath, Spike faced the entrance. He really wasn’t looking forward to the trip back.


	7. Collide

**“The dawn is breaking/A light shining through/You’re barely waking/And I’m tangled up in you/I’m open, you’re closed/Where I follow, you’ll go/I worry I won’t see your face/Light up again/Even the best fall down sometimes/Even the wrong words seem to rhyme/Out of the doubt that fills my mind/I somehow find/You and I collide…” Howie Day, “Collide”**

 

Clem popped another Bugle into his mouth and watched the cave’s entrance. He’d done exactly as Spike had asked—come alone, keep watch, make sure no one followed him. Of course, Clem had no idea who would want to follow _him_ , but he figured Spike had his reasons for giving those precise instructions.

 

He didn’t mind doing Spike a favor. The vampire had done plenty for him, up to and including saving his hide from the loan shark. Clem wasn’t quite sure what his friend saw in the Slayer, of all people, but he supposed you loved who you loved.

 

At least things seemed to be going better. Spike appeared to be happier these days.

 

Clem’s ears perked up as he heard a scuffling sound from inside the cave, and he grew very still, waiting to see what was going to emerge.

 

Spike’s dusty head poked out, looking around cautiously. “Clem? You there, mate?”

 

“Right here,” he replied, in a rather loud whisper. “How did things go?”

 

Spike smiled. “Good. I owe you one for keeping a lookout.”

 

Clem shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. You’d do the same for me.”

 

“Too right,” Spike returned, emerging from the cavern completely. He was covered in dirt from head to toe, and his inner clock told him that it was just after midnight. Spike needed to get his loot somewhere safe. There was no reason to hang onto it for any longer than necessary. “You mind taking a trip to L.A. with me? There’s a fence I know of who can handle this sort of thing, but I wouldn’t mind the company.”

 

Clem hesitated. There was a _Love Boat_ marathon on TV that he really didn’t want to miss, but he couldn’t let Spike down either. “I’ll buy you a TiVo box,” Spike added, knowing exactly what to say to get Clem to agree.

 

Clem brightened. “Really?”

 

“Sure thing. Soon as we get back into town.”

 

“Okay,” Clem agreed, following Spike into the cavern and picking up one of the heavy bags. “Do you trust this guy?”

 

Spike snorted. “Not hardly, but the last time he tried to cheat me I had him tortured for a few days. That’s not a lesson you soon forget.”

 

“Before the chip?” Clem asked.

 

“Well, yeah, but this guy isn’t exactly human, so I don’t think we need to worry.” Spike smirked. “Last I heard, he was still shaking in his boots every time someone mentioned my name.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Hey, Tara,” Buffy said. She had missed the deadline for spring registration, but the lady in admissions had been very understanding, and had suggested that Buffy apply for the following year. Even if Spike didn’t come through with the money, Buffy would at least be able to get some financial aid. Since she was on campus, Buffy had decided to meet up with Tara and hopefully pump her for information about Spike’s whereabouts, as well as ask her about Christmas Eve.

 

“Buffy.” The other girl gave her a quick hug. “How are you?”

 

Buffy shrugged. “I’m okay. Not great, but okay.”

 

Actually, the truth was that she missed Spike. He’d been gone for three days now. She had faith that he would come back—he always did—but Buffy hadn’t realized what an integral part of her world he’d become. It hadn’t taken 24 hours before she’d started thinking about all the things she wanted to say to him when he got back. Or do to him.

 

When the heck had that happened?

 

“How are you?” Buffy asked.

 

Tara shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve seen Willow a few times. It hasn’t really gone well.”

 

Buffy frowned. “She hasn’t—”

 

“No!” Tara quickly denied the thought of Willow doing something untoward. “It’s just hard.”

 

“I get that,” Buffy replied. There was a shared pause, and then she said hesitantly, “Tara, do you know where Spike is?”

 

Tara frowned. “I thought he told you that he was leaving town for a few days.”

 

“He did.” Buffy gave a little self-conscious laugh. “I was just wondering if you know when he’ll be back.”

 

Tara shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I’m sure he’ll be back soon, though. I know Spike doesn’t like to spend more time away from you and Dawn than he has to.”

 

“I know.” Buffy sighed. “It’s just that, well, I miss him.”

 

Tara gave her a sympathetic smile. “Is that so bad?”

 

“I guess not, but it’s definitely not something I’d ever thought I’d be able to say.” Buffy took a sip of her drink. “I did want to talk to you about coming over for Christmas Eve, though. It would be nice if you joined us. I know Dawn really wants you there.”

 

Tara winced. “I don’t know, Buffy. Maybe it would be better if I wasn’t there.”

 

“Willow’s already told me that she’s not going to be coming,” Buffy replied. “If that’s what’s stopping you.”

 

“Actually, that’s pretty much what I was wondering,” she admitted. “What about Xander and Anya?”

 

“Taking a trip.” She stared down into her cup. She’d splurged on a mocha today. Spike had insisted on filling up her fridge before he left town, so she wasn’t skimping to get groceries this week. And, she trusted him. If Spike said he was going to figure out a way to solve her money troubles, Buffy was willing to believe him.

 

There was still a part of her that wondered if she was doing the right thing by accepting Spike’s help. It seemed like a huge step, like she was becoming too dependent upon him. You accepted this kind of help from a long-term boyfriend, or a husband, or at least someone you had a more permanent relationship with. Not from the guy you were sleeping with and were thinking that you might possibly be in like with.

 

Buffy knew she needed help, though, and there wasn’t anyone else. Giles had left, her dad was still incommunicado, and none of her friends were in a position to be of real assistance. She’d thought about selling the house, but Buffy couldn’t fathom not living there. It was the last place she had lived with her mother. It was home. Maybe it would be the smart thing to do, but she was just as glad to not have to worry about it.

 

“At Christmas?” Tara asked, when she realized that Buffy wasn’t going to continue. She’d noticed that Buffy seemed to drift off a lot lately. Instead of really engaging in a conversation, she seemed to fade in and out.

 

Buffy shrugged. “Apparently Anya wanted to get away, and Xander thought it was a good idea. That means it’ll be just you and Spike and Dawn and me.”

 

“That’s quite a change from last year,” Tara said softly.

 

Buffy blinked back tears. “Yeah, but it’ll be nice.” She didn’t sound very certain of that, even to her own ears. “At least I don’t have to worry about everyone getting along.”

 

Tara reached over to squeeze Buffy’s hand. “Do you want me to cook?”

 

“You don’t have to,” Buffy said quickly. “You’re supposed to be a guest, and—”

 

“I don’t mind,” Tara said. “It’s not like I’ll be cooking for a crowd if it’s just us. It’s not that big of a deal.”

 

Buffy smiled gratefully. “I would appreciate it, and I’m sure Dawn would, too. I’m not known for my cooking. Demon to slay? No problem. But dinner is beyond me.”

 

“We all have different skills.” Tara’s eyes were gently teasing.

 

Buffy giggled. Not that it was much of one, but it was something. “We’ll just have to have a division of labor. You cook, I’ll slay.”

 

“And we’ll leave the clean up to Spike and Dawn.” Tara’s smile broadened into a grin.

 

They were both thinking the same thing: it was good to have a friend again.

 

~~~~~

 

“I really appreciate all your help, Clem,” Spike said. Not that courtesy came naturally to him these days, but Clem had been a huge help. It had been good to get out of Sunnyhell, to remind himself that there was more to the world than the Hellmouth.

 

Even if Buffy and Dawn were the sum of _his_ world.

 

“Hey, it wasn’t a problem,” Clem replied. The trip had been pretty easy on him. He’d just tagged along and helped Spike haul his loot to the demon who converted gold and jewels into ready cash. They’d had to wait a full day in L.A. while the demon worked up a reasonable estimate and got their payment together. Then Spike had gone to a lawyer to get the trusts worked out.

 

Then, there had been the stop to get Clem’s TiVo. He couldn’t wait to try it out.

 

Clem watched as Spike fiddled around with the wiring. He would have hooked the box up himself, but he couldn’t make heads or tails of the directions. Of course, he didn’t know that Spike was doing much better, but Clem appreciated his efforts. He really was an okay guy. “So are you going to see Buffy tonight?”

 

“I’m going to try,” Spike grunted as he reached for the cable that had fallen behind the TV. “Dunno if she’ll still be awake.”

 

“So you guys are good?”

 

“Dunno.” Spike plugged the last cable into its corresponding slot, trying not to think about the double entendre that popped into his head. He had _really_ missed Buffy.

 

He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d missed him.

 

“I get the impression that the Slayer doesn’t know what she wants, but she’s not running from me anymore, and that’s definitely an improvement.” Spike sat back on his heels. “Check it out, mate. Let’s see if it works.”

 

Clem didn’t turn on the box right away, instead fiddling with his new remote. “People are starting to talk, Spike.”

 

“About what?” he asked in an even voice.

 

“About you and the Slayer.” Clem’s eyes were concerned. “Most aren’t going to mess with you, but there are a few…” He left the rest unsaid, knowing that Spike would understand. Spike still frequented the demon hangouts often enough to put himself in some danger. Angel had avoided putting himself in harm’s way, but Spike wasn’t quite so careful.

 

“Thanks for the heads up,” Spike finally replied. “But I can take care of myself.”

 

“Sure you can,” Clem hastened to assure him. He knew how good Spike was in a fight. “I just wanted you to know.”

 

“I’ll keep an eye out.” Spike stood. He was still stiff and sore from his trip through the caves and tunnels. He’d been lucky to make it out with his unlife. Even a vampire didn’t quickly recover from getting nailed in the chest with a fifty-pound rock. At least, it had felt like a fifty-pound rock when it hit him. “I should go if I’m going to catch the Slayer.”

 

“Thanks for the TiVo,” Clem said.

 

Spike just shrugged. “Not a problem. Let me know if you have any problems. Don’t know that I’ll be much help, but the Nibblet knows her way around that sort of thing.”

 

Clem watched the vampire leave and then turned back to the TV. He was still concerned. There had been a lot of really nasty comments made the last time he played poker.

 

He just hoped that Buffy was as interested in protecting Spike as Spike was in protecting her, because Clem had a feeling that the Slayer was the only person who was going to be able to keep him in one piece.

 

~~~~~

 

The doors were locked. Spike stood outside the front door uncertainly, wondering if he should just head back to his crypt. He stepped off the porch, walking backwards until he could see Buffy’s window.

 

There was no sign of movement, and Spike leaned back against the tree with a sigh. He dug through his pockets for his cigarettes, lighting one up and taking a long drag. Spike wished that he was more certain of his welcome, that he knew Buffy hadn’t changed her mind while he’d been gone.

 

A part of Spike wished he was strong enough to walk away. He knew that he was probably letting himself in for a world of pain. If Buffy let herself feel, though—Spike knew that there was something there.

 

There was no way he could walk away from her, of course. He wasn’t built that way, for one thing, and for another Buffy needed him. That much he was certain of.

 

Spike tossed his cigarette butt on the ground under the tree, grinding it under his boot. He’d have to catch up with the Slayer another time, he supposed. He could give her the paperwork then, too.

 

He was just about to walk away when he heard a faint sound that he was very familiar with. Spike had loitered under Dawn’s window all summer, waiting for that sound. Moving just as quickly as he had for Dawn, Spike scaled the tree, moving quickly down one limb to drop lightly onto the roof.

 

The window was closed, but not latched, and Spike slipped into the room easily enough. Buffy was tossing restlessly, whimpering as she slept. He was at her side in an instant, running his hands up and down her upper arms to comfort her, hoping that she wouldn’t think he was an enemy and pull a stake out of some place.

 

As far as Spike knew, Buffy slept with a stake under her pillow every night.

 

“Luv?” he whispered, not wanting to wake Dawn.

 

Buffy whimpered again, and Spike tightened his grip, trying to bring her out of her nightmare. “Come on, Buffy. Wake up.”

 

She woke with a gasp, her eyes wide, staring at him without really focusing for a long moment.

 

“Buffy?”

 

“You’re back.”

 

Buffy’s arms went around his neck in as spontaneous a reaction as Spike could have hoped for from her. Spike held her in return, smoothing down her hair in a comforting gesture. “Yeah, I’m back. Not going anywhere.”

 

She didn’t release him, nor did she say anything. “Want to tell me what that was all about?” he asked.

 

“The usual,” she whispered. “It’s always the same.”

 

He just held her, allowing Buffy to hang on for dear life, much as she’d done when he’d kept her from burning alive during Sweet’s visit. Spike was perversely grateful that she was clinging to him. Not that he wanted her weak; he didn’t. Buffy’s strength was what had drawn him in. But if she needed this now, then Spike was just happy she was taking it from him.

 

When she started to pull away, Spike released her, albeit reluctantly. “I should be going,” he said, hoping she would ask him to stay.

 

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ve got better things to be doing.”

 

“Can’t think of any, but I thought you’d want to sleep.”

 

“After that?” Buffy shook her head. “Not likely.”

 

“Do you want me to stay?”

 

“Only if you want to.”

 

“Luv, I always want to.”

 

She hesitated. “I don’t know, Spike. Dawn—”

 

“I can stay with you without shagging you silly,” Spike interrupted. “It would be nice, but I think I’ll survive.”

 

Buffy lay back down, watching Spike with wary eyes as he settled in next to her. “Did you get your errands run?”

 

“Yeah. I’ll tell you more about it after you’ve slept.”

 

“And you’ll stay?”

 

“Sure, kitten. Just close your eyes.”

 

He watched as she closed her eyes, knowing that most of Buffy’s easy acquiescence had to do with the fact that it was the middle of the night, and she was still disoriented from her dream.

 

Spike smiled slowly. She’d missed him, though. He was sure of it.


	8. Closer

**“Come on closer/I wanna show you/What I’d like to do/You sit back now/Just relax now/I’ll take care of you…Gonna take it slow babe/Do it my way/Keep your eyes on me/Your reaction/To my action/Is what I want to see/Rhythmic motion/Raw emotion/ Infiltrating through/Sweet sensations/Hot temptations/Coming over you/And now you’re satisfied/A twinkle in your eye/Go to sleep for ten/And anticipating/I will be waiting/For you to wake again…Hour after hour/of sweet pleasure/After this I guarantee/you’ll never want to leave…” ~Jem, “Come on Closer”**

 

Buffy gently extricated herself from Spike’s arms, smiling when he murmured sleepily. She closed the blinds and shut the curtains, hoping that it would block most of the sunlight. Slipping back into bed, she allowed him to pull her closer, one cool, strong arm wrapping securely around her waist.

 

She probably should have woken him, shooed him down to the basement or back to his crypt. Buffy should have sent him away last night, no matter how right it had felt to wake up to see his concern.

 

No matter how good it felt to wake up with him this morning.

 

She wasn’t inclined to over-think it at the moment, however. This morning had been the first in weeks that she hadn’t felt the weight of depression settle in on her again. It was always the waking that was the most difficult. That moment of transition between the dream world and reality hit her hard every day. When she realized that she had another day to face where nothing felt good or right, when she found it so hard to believe that she’d ever be happy again.

 

When, upon waking this morning, wrapped in Spike’s arms, she felt some small sense of peace.

 

All Buffy wanted was a little peace.

 

“You should go back to sleep,” he muttered into her hair. “It’s early.”

 

“Dawn’s getting up soon,” Buffy whispered in reply. “I have to make sure she gets off to school. She’s already been late three times this year.”

 

He grunted. “You gonna make me wait ‘til after she’s gone?”

 

“Wait for what?”

 

“You know what.” Spike propped himself up so she could get the full effect of his leer.

 

Buffy rolled her eyes, ignoring the heat that had suddenly blossomed in her midsection. It wasn’t fair that Spike had to be so damn sexy after he’d been sleeping. She always woke up looking like a hag. “Do you ever think about anything else?”

 

“After spending the night without copping a feel, can you blame me?” he shot back, the twinkle in his eyes telling Buffy that he knew exactly what he was doing to her. Spike’s hand splayed over her abdomen, playing with the top of her pajama bottoms. “Tell me you’re not in the mood.”

 

“I’m not in the mood.” Her gasp when his hand dropped lower still belied that answer. “Spike—”

 

“Tell me you don’t want this,” Spike said, his eyes challenging.

 

Buffy swallowed hard. It was so hard to think when he was doing _that_. It was harder still to remember that she had responsibilities. She had a younger sister to rouse, and errands to run, and things to take care of. Things that responsible adults didn’t get out of just because there was an insatiable vampire hanging around.

 

“I can’t,” she whispered. “I have to get Dawn off to school.”

 

Spike glanced at the clock. “You’ve got time.”

 

“Fifteen minutes!” she hissed. “It’s not enough.”

 

Spike’s eyes narrowed. “Wanna bet?”

 

Buffy had a feeling that she’d lose that bet. She’d already discovered that Spike was very, very good at what he did. She touched his cheek. “Not for what I want.”

 

“What do you want?” Spike asked.

 

Buffy didn’t have a name for what she wanted. She didn’t dare call it making love, because that didn’t seem quite right. She couldn’t call it having sex, because that sounded too clinical. And she didn’t want the quick and dirty sex that qualified for another term altogether, at least not this morning.

 

Instead of responding verbally, Buffy pulled his head down, deepening the kiss, keeping it long and slow and oh, so sweet. It was the kind of kiss that could go on all day because you didn’t need anything else.

 

At least until the heat made you both spontaneously combust.

 

When she finally broke it off to breathe, she heard Spike chuckle. “I can do that, luv.”

 

Buffy wasn’t looking at him, which meant she didn’t have to meet his eyes, which meant she could speak the truth in the dim light. “I missed you.”

 

He held her just a little tighter. “Same here.”

 

~~~~~

 

Spike stayed in Buffy’s room, listening to the sounds of her chivvying Dawn out of bed and into some semblance of readiness for the day. He could hear the sounds of cereal being poured, coffee being brewed. Eventually, there was the sound of Xander’s car pulling into the driveway and the front door slamming.

 

There was a part of him that had wanted to go downstairs and just let whatever fallout was going to come, come. Buffy hadn’t asked him to stay behind, but she hadn’t asked him to come downstairs either.

 

It had been simpler to stay in her bed and wait for her to come back up.

 

Well, wait to see if she would. Spike still didn’t know if she’d rabbit off on him or not.

 

Buffy entered the room a few moments after he heard the car pulling out of the driveway. “Hey.”

 

“So you just going to stand there, or are you going to come join me?” Spike asked.

 

She hesitated, although it was mostly because it seemed so decadent to go back to bed when the rest of the world was up and being productive. Her sister and friends were all at school or at work, and what was she doing?

 

Planning on having sex. Or something along those lines.

 

Spike watched her. He could see the wheels turning in her head, and he sighed. “We don’t have to do anything, Buffy.”

 

“Is this wrong?”

 

“You and me?”

 

“Us being here in the middle of the day,” Buffy clarified. “I feel like I should be doing something. I don’t have any idea what I’m doing with my life or my time.”

 

“You’re thinking too much again,” he accused her. “Don’t.”

 

Buffy pouted. “Then what do you want me to do?”

 

“Don’t think.” Spike rose. He had taken off his shoes, but he’d yet to get undressed further. “Just feel.”

 

“I have things to do,” Buffy protested, but it was weak, and she knew it.

 

Spike nibbled on her neck, right above her jugular. “Do them later.”

 

“I can’t be doing this all the time.”

 

“We haven’t seen each other in three days.”

 

For some reason, those were the magic words, because Buffy suddenly had a justification. She hadn’t seen Spike for three days. It was natural for two—whatever—who had been apart to want to jump each other’s bones. It was right.

 

Their clothes were gone so quickly, Buffy wasn’t even quite sure how it happened. Once it was skin on skin, though, everything slowed to a crawl. She’d wanted to take it slow; Buffy had wanted all the time in the world to lose herself.

 

There was no time, in the end. No thoughts except for the sense of skin and heat. It was just them and the moment and the rhythm of their moving together.

 

And when Buffy finally surrendered, she felt complete.

 

~~~~~

 

“I really need to shower.”

 

Spike stroked her back. “Go on then.”

 

“I don’t want to move. Do I have to move?”

 

Buffy was cute when she pouted. Spike nibbled her lip. “Not if you don’t want to.”

 

“But I have to.” Her eyes begged him to understand. That was the hardest part of waking up every day—the constant pressure to do, to be, to act. All things she hadn’t needed to worry about when she was dead. Maybe that was a cliché, but it was true. As nice as being with Spike was—and it _was_ nice—Spike really didn’t have to worry about the same kinds of things.

 

And Buffy needed him to. At least, she needed him to understand that while his world might revolve around her, her world couldn’t revolve around him. It just wasn’t possible.

 

Even if she wished it could. Even if it was hard.

 

“We all have to do things we don’t want to do.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like not meeting the sun after the woman you love dies because you made her a promise.”

 

Buffy roused herself enough to meet Spike’s eyes, and the pain she saw hit her hard. “Spike—”

 

“Look, I know you don’t feel the same way, alright?” he said impatiently. “But you can’t expect me not to say anything, not to act like—”

 

She interrupted him. “I know how you feel.”

 

The silence stretched out between them like a rubber band pulled too tight, and they both knew that it could go either way. “Do you really?”

 

“I do.” Buffy struggled for the words. She wasn’t sure what to say, or how to say it. It was odd, but it was easy to be honest with Spike. Maybe at first the reason was that he didn’t matter—or that he was outside her immediate circle. Now, it was different. She could be honest because he accepted that from her in a way that no one else did. Because she’d already taken the first step, and it was easier now.

 

“I know that you love me.” Buffy took a deep breath. “I don’t know what to do with that.”

 

Spike softened slightly. “What you’re doing is fine, Buffy.”

 

“I want to give you more,” she whispered. “I want to tell you that if you stick this out long enough, I might be able to give you what you want, but most days—most days it’s hard for me to believe that it’s worth the effort of getting out of bed.”

 

“It’s okay, luv,” he said. “Long as you don’t tell me I don’t feel what I do, I think we’ll be okay.”

 

Buffy sighed. “I really do need to shower.”

 

“Go on then.” This time, Spike put his words into action, gently nudging Buffy out of bed, surprised when she caught at his hand. “What?”

 

“Come on,” Buffy insisted. “We’ve been trying to cut down on the water bill.”

 

Spike decided not to mention that Buffy wouldn’t have to worry about money again for a while. It never hurt to pinch a penny. Not in this case, anyway. “Far be it from me to disappoint a lady.”

 

~~~~~

 

Dawn decided that it was a lot like walking into an episode of _The Twilight Zone_. Not that she minded coming into the kitchen after school to find her sister and Spike arguing amiably over which was better—crunchy or creamy peanut butter. Spike, apparently, wanted crunchy. Buffy didn’t have anything but creamy.

 

It was just strange, Dawn decided. Like going out to dinner the other night, when the three of them had actually felt like a family. Seeing them in the kitchen like this now, it was almost like walking in on her parents when they were together and happy. Dawn got the same warm, comfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach.

 

She hadn’t had that feeling since before her mom died.

 

“Hey, guys,” Dawn finally said from the doorway. Dawn didn’t see Spike watching Buffy intently to see her reaction to her younger sister finding him in their kitchen, and probably coming to the obvious conclusion.

 

Buffy smiled. “Hey, Dawn. How was school?”

 

“Good.” She hesitated. “So how long have you been back, Spike?”

 

“Got in last night,” he replied. “Been behaving yourself?”

 

Dawn rolled her eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business, but, yes.” She was busy trying to do the math. “So when did you come over?”

 

“Spike spent the night.”

 

Both of them turned to look at Buffy with equal surprise—Spike because she’d actually admitted to it, and Dawn because Buffy had allowed him to stay. “Spike stayed?”

 

“Is that okay?” Buffy asked. “If you’re uncomfortable with it—”

 

“No!” Dawn said quickly. “No, I mean, it’s great.” She beamed at them. “Wait, so you guys are dating? How long has it been going on? Are you going to tell anybody? Does this mean Spike’s going to be living here?”

 

“Slow down, Dawn,” Buffy cautioned. “We haven’t really talked about any of that.”

 

“But you guys are dating?” she pressed, looking from one to the other.

 

Buffy hesitated, looking over at Spike. He shrugged, as if to say that she could say what she liked, and she rolled her eyes. “Yes, we’re dating.”

 

“That is, like, so cool!” Dawn said. She frowned. “You haven’t told anybody else, have you?”

 

“Tara knows,” Spike said.

 

Buffy grimaced. “And I think we should probably keep it to just the four of us for now. Who knows what Willow and Xander would say?”

 

“I think I could guess,” Spike mumbled.

 

Dawn nodded. “They’ll be stupid about it. I think it’s better if they don’t know either.” Actually, Dawn was thrilled to know something that the other Scoobies didn’t know. She could even forgive her sister for telling Tara about her and Spike first.

 

“You’re okay with Spike sleeping over, then?”

 

“As long as I don’t have to hear you guys having sex,” Dawn clarified. “I mean, ew. Unless you guys aren’t having sex yet. Maybe you’re not at that stage, and—”

 

“Quit while you’re ahead, Nibblet,” Spike said with an amused smile. “We’ll try not to scar you for life. How’s that?”

 

Dawn grinned at him. “Good.” She glanced between the two of them. “I’m just, uh, going upstairs now to do my homework.”

 

“We’re staying in for dinner tonight,” Buffy called after her. “Spike swears he can cook.”

 

“He can!” Dawn called back.

 

Buffy turned back towards the vampire. “Okay, what just happened? Because I swear that my sister just went upstairs to do her homework without being asked. Are you sure she’s not possessed, or some strange demon or something?”

 

“She’s happy,” Spike said softly, a smile playing around the corners of his lips.

 

Buffy looked puzzled, then her face cleared. “Because of us?”

 

He shrugged. “You didn’t have to tell her, you know. Could have just said I showed up uninvited earlier today.”

 

“Why?” she asked. “There’s no point. If you stay the night again, she’d find out then. Or we’d be forced to keep sneaking around. I told you that I couldn’t keep sneaking out.”

 

“And I said you didn’t have to sneak,” Spike reminded her. “You didn’t have to tell her we were dating.”

 

Buffy raised an eyebrow. “Do you not want to date?”

 

“Didn’t think that’s what we were doing.”

 

“What would you call it then?”

 

“I don’t know,” he shot back. “Thought you were the one calling the shots.”

 

“What is up with you?” Buffy demanded. “You’re so touchy all the time!”

 

Spike glared at her. “I’m touchy? What about you?”

 

“What about me?”

 

They were nose to nose now, and it was definitely a fight, but so far no blows had been exchanged, either verbal or physical. They were just words, and both of them started to snicker at the same time, realizing exactly how ridiculous they sounded.

 

“Sorry,” Spike muttered, smiling sheepishly. “Was a long few days.”

 

“Are you hungry?” she asked. “I didn’t even ask if you wanted anything. I did get you some blood.”

 

He nodded. “Yeah, sure. I’m a bit peckish.”

 

“That would explain the short temper,” Buffy replied, but the teasing note in her voice prevented Spike from taking offense.

 

Spike snorted. “Is that why you’ve been short tempered?”

 

Buffy started to make a sharp retort, and then stopped herself. “I haven’t been that bad, have I?”

 

“Not the last little while,” he admitted. “But before, yeah.”

 

Buffy poured Spike’s blood into a mug and stuck it in the microwave, keeping her back to him. It was easier to be honest if she didn’t have to look at him, she’d found. She could pretend she was talking to herself. Because Buffy and honesty were mostly unmixy things.

 

“I got scared. With the kiss, you know.”

 

“Could have fooled me,” he murmured, causing Buffy to turn and glare at him. Spike chuckled. “I figured that, luv.”

 

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, you weren’t helping out much.”

 

“No, I wasn’t.”

 

His admission startled her, and it made it easier for Buffy to go forward. “I just didn’t know what to do with it. Or us, I guess.”

 

“You got a better idea now?”

 

“No.” Buffy pulled the warmed blood out of the microwave, setting it in front of him without even making a face. Spike noticed it; he wondered if she realized what that said about the change in their relationship. He decided it might be better not to comment on it. “I just know that I like being with you.”

 

“And on that note…” Spike reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a much-folded sheet of paper.

 

Buffy took it, smoothing it out on the counter. She stared at the numbers, but none of them made sense to her. “I don’t understand.”

 

“Sorry,” Spike said, pointing out the pertinent line. “The real paperwork is in a safe place. That’s just my notes.”

 

“Your notes?” she asked, squinting as she tried to make out his handwriting. “I don’t—” She stopped. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

 

“I’m not. It’s real, Buffy.”

 

“Spike, you—”

 

“I didn’t rob a bank,” he said, a little hurt that she’d question him after he’d already told her the money wasn’t going to be stolen.

 

She shook her head. “I know you didn’t, but this is—a lot.”

 

“It’s the treasure that came with the Gem of Amara,” Spike replied. “It’s not all of it, but I went back for as much as I could haul out in one trip.”

 

“They said the tunnels collapsed!” Buffy objected. “It was all over the news back then.”

 

He waved it off. “I got through. Doesn’t matter anyway. I took it up to L.A., to someone I knew who could fix it up. Won’t matter what the social workers dig up. To anyone looking, it’ll appear that some old aunt died and left you her trust. Dawn’s is set up for college, but yours will pay out a monthly income. Won’t be a lot, but it should be enough to get you by.”

 

“What about you?” Buffy demanded. “I can’t take all of this, Spike.”

 

Spike shook his head. “I’m set up, luv. I’ve got enough, and if I have to, I can go back. Didn’t clean the place out by a long shot.”

 

Buffy touched the crumpled paper as though it was made of something precious, and maybe it was. It was a tangible reminder of the lengths Spike was willing to go for her.

 

Like she’d needed another reminder.

 

“I wish I could say that I can’t accept this,” Buffy said quietly.

 

“Buffy—” The hurt was evident in his tone.

 

She stopped him with a hand on his. “This is big, Spike. This is more than I would take from anyone, but…”

 

“You need it.”

 

Buffy didn’t reply. She couldn’t say that what she really needed was _him_ , but she was thinking it.

 

“It’s just a way to make up for it,” Spike said quietly, sincerely.

 

“A way to make up for what?”

 

“Not doing my job.”

 

It took Buffy a moment to figure out what he was referring to. “Spike, that wasn’t your fault.”

 

“I told you before. I should have—”

 

“No.” The single word silenced him. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

 

The funny thing was, when Buffy said those words to Spike, she meant every single one.

 

~~~~~

 

Willow had mostly been focusing on taking her finals for the last couple of weeks. She hadn’t had the time to think about what she should do for Buffy. Although she probably could have managed to come out with A’s the same way she’d managed to get her dorm room, there seemed to be something vaguely wrong with that.

 

After all, the living quarters had been an immediate need. The grades she could handle on her own.

 

She had lied to Buffy about making other plans for the holidays. There had been a retreat for the on-campus Wicca group, but they were all still a bunch of wanna-blessed-bes. After the things Willow had seen and done, she had even less of a taste for their company. Xander and Anya were out of town, and Willow still didn’t have any interest in talking to Buffy.

 

The more she thought about their fight, the colder Willow’s anger got. She just didn’t understand how Buffy could blame her. She’d thought she was doing the right thing. Willow certainly hadn’t meant to hurt her, or Dawn. Couldn’t they see that she was just trying her best?

 

And the more Willow thought about it, the more certain she was that all of it had something to do with Spike. Buffy had been hanging out with him more. She had been spending more time alone or out on patrol, and less time with her friends. Spike had probably been telling her how horrible they all were.

 

Not that Willow could prove it, of course. She knew that it was probably better to wait until she could expose Spike for the troublemaker he was. But she could be prepared.

 

Willow planned on spending her winter break wisely.


	9. Upheaval

**“Would your love in all its finery/tear at the darkness all around me/until I can feel again/ until I can breathe again/’Cause I’m a train wreck waiting to happen/waiting for someone to come pick me up off the tracks/a wild fire born of frustration/born of the one love that gets me so high/I’ve no fear at all…To fall so deep into you/lose myself completely/in your sweet embrace/all my pain’s erased/From your mouth it’s all that I wish/the mercy of your lips just one kiss/until I can breathe again/so that I can sing again.” ~Sarah McLachlin, “Train Wreck”**

 

As disappointed as Buffy had been about her friends’ decision to spend the holidays elsewhere, it turned out to be the best thing that could have happened. Not only did she not have to worry about everyone getting along, but also it was such a different group of people that Joyce’s absence did not loom as large as it might have.

 

Buffy missed her mom, and there was definitely a hole there, but Joyce wasn’t the only one missing from the festivities. This was the first Christmas Spike had spent with them, and only the second Christmas Tara had been there. It was just different all the way around. She thought that might have been better than trying to pretend that nothing had changed.

 

Instead, everything had changed, and maybe that was okay.

 

With Spike and Tara cooking, and her and Dawn as onlookers and occasional participants, it was all strangely new. Spike was more refined with Tara than he was with anyone else, and Tara was bolder with Spike. Dawn was equally cheeky with both of them, and Buffy just let the scene and the sounds wash over her. The three of them seemed to drop into a rhythm, and she wondered if she wasn’t getting a peek into what things had been like while she was gone.

 

It was so simple just to take it all in, let the smells and sounds wash over her. No one was asking her to participate or to talk. Everybody seemed to take for granted that Buffy wasn’t going to be playing the happy hostess.

 

Dinner probably turned out a lot better under Tara’s capable hands than it would have if Buffy had been in charge. They all ate, then they all helped with the clean up, and she allowed the peace of the moment to settle into her soul. It was the first time since she’d been back, other than the times she’d lost herself in Spike’s embrace, that Buffy had felt good about being back.

 

After dinner, they drank eggnog and talked, Dawn allowing Tara to play with her long hair, Buffy leaning against Spike in contentment. Everyone there knew about them. There was no reason to hide.

 

It was late when Tara left, and Dawn finally went to bed soon after. Spike had insisted on taking Tara home, but Buffy had asked him to come back. He sat next to her on the couch, where she’d remained. “You okay, luv?” he asked softly. “You were quiet this evening.”

 

“I’m okay.” Buffy leaned back against him. “It’s just different.”

 

“I can imagine.”

 

She was silent then, letting him run his fingers through her hair—longer now than Buffy had let it get in a long time. It was so easy just to sit on the couch, watching the crackling fire. Joyce had always had a fire on Christmas Eve, even if it meant cranking up the air conditioning. Buffy had wanted to continue the tradition.

 

Spike just stroked her hair, content to be with her. He was a little awed that he had been allowed to be here. She had invited him. More than that, Buffy had really wanted him there. He listened as her breathing evened out, and when he was certain she was asleep, Spike picked her up and carried her up the stairs.

 

And then he kept watch over her until sunrise, in an attempt to keep her nightmares at bay.

 

~~~~~

 

Xander wasn’t sure what he’d expected from their vacation. Maybe to get a little closer to his fiancée, maybe work out the wedding plans. He had definitely expected some rest and relaxation away from the Hellmouth.

 

What he’d gotten was five days of hassles. Their plane was late, and the reservations for the hotel hadn’t been booked so they were forced to find a room at the Budget Inn, instead of the three star hotel with a pool they’d wanted. Anya complained that the room smelled like smoke the entire time they stayed. Xander had bad seafood the second night, which resulted in him puking his guts up for the next two days.

 

Anya had tried to be attentive, but she had gotten tired of spending their vacation inside a stinky motel room, and so she’d finally left to go sightsee on her own the third day. Xander had been feeling better, but he hadn’t been up to playing the tourist. He had been upset that she hadn’t stayed with him and angry that everything had gone so horribly wrong.

 

Of course, Anya had been just as disappointed about their ruined trip. The first and last days were the only ones they’d been able to have fun, and Xander was _not_ a good patient. She probably would have tried to nurse him the whole time, even after he’d been able to make it to the bathroom on his own, but he had continually complained about how horrible he felt, and why did they have to eat seafood anyway, and why had Anya picked that restaurant.

 

Oh, and then he’d started talking about how they should have stayed in Sunnydale because it was Buffy’s first Christmas without her mom, and she was still depressed about being back from the dead. Anya wanted to know when the heck _she_ was going to come first.

 

All in all, their little vacation hadn’t done much for their relationship. What it had done was to make them seriously reconsider getting married. They had both been having doubts; the singing and dancing had brought that out, but they hadn’t discussed it. Once Sweet was gone, and the musical was over, it was full-speed ahead with the wedding plans.

 

Xander was beginning to think that it might have been a mistake.

 

He still wanted to marry her, of course, but Xander was thinking that maybe he’d rushed into things. Popping the question had seemed like a good idea when he thought that Glory would wind up killing them all, but the reality was looming scarily on the horizon.

                                                                                                          

And Anya had not yet quite forgiven Xander for keeping their engagement secret all summer. It was like he wasn’t proud of the fact that they were getting married in the first place. Like maybe he wasn’t very proud of—her.

 

With those thoughts running through their heads, it was no surprise that silence had reigned from the moment they’d gotten on the plane in San Francisco to the moment Xander pulled into their space at the apartment complex.

 

They sat there for a moment, both debating on whether or not to say anything, to apologize for harsh words spoken in the heat of the moment, for being less considerate of the other’s needs than they might have been.

 

“I’ll carry the bags up,” Xander said.

 

“Thank you.” Anya got out of the car.

 

It felt like a cold front was moving in.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy sipped at her coffee in thoughtful silence, knowing that Dawn would most likely sleep for hours yet. She had left Spike still sleeping at his crypt last night, where they had ended their patrol in the usual way.

 

Things between them were changing, turning. Sometimes things between them were desperate, hungry, fierce. Other nights it was something else altogether. Those were the nights that Buffy was hesitant to put a label on, tinged as they were with the tenderness that had sprung up between them in those last days before her death and just after her resurrection. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say that they were making love, but they weren’t.

 

Spike might be, but she wasn’t in love with him. Not really.

 

Not yet.

 

Those two words just seemed to explode inside her head, laden with possibilities. They carried with them the understanding that she _could_ love Spike, and somehow that didn’t scare her nearly as much as it probably should have.

 

She’d seen in him the capacity for change, and Buffy was going to hang onto that for all she was worth. Oddly enough, it was that change that made her feel most secure. Spike was changing because he loved her. How crazy was that?

 

“Buffy?” Xander’s voice carried through to the kitchen, and she called him back. “How was your holiday?” he asked once he could see her.

 

She smiled. “It was good. How was San Francisco?”  


Xander hesitated. He wasn’t sure that Buffy was the person he ought to be telling about his problems. After all, she had enough of her own. Still, she seemed to be in a good enough mood, and Willow wasn’t answering her phone. He didn’t have anyone else to talk to. “Pretty much a bust.”

 

Buffy frowned, concerned. “That bad, huh? Do you want some coffee?”

 

“Yeah, I’ll get it.” Xander grabbed a mug from the cupboard and filled it up. “Well, aside from the fact that everything that could go wrong did, I ended up with a case of food poisoning.”

 

She gave a sympathetic wince. “You did get a chance to see the city, though?”

 

“For all of two days,” he sighed. “Anya wasn’t much help, either.”

 

Buffy frowned, remembering Anya’s rather blunt solicitousness when Xander had caught all those diseases from the Native American spirits. Maybe her bedside manner needed a little work, but she hadn’t left his side. “What did she do?”

 

“Nothing,” Xander quickly said, realizing how uncharitable he was being. “She was great. She stayed with me the first couple days, but then she went out. It’s probably a good thing that one of us enjoyed the trip.”

 

“I’m sorry, Xan,” Buffy said, at a loss for what to say. She wanted to give him all her sympathy, to pat him on the back and tell him how horrible it was, and how wrong Anya had been to leave him at all. On the other hand, she was pretty sure she’d have done exactly the same thing. “That’s too bad.”

 

Seeing that Buffy wasn’t planning on giving out more sympathy, Xander shrugged. “It’s fine. We’ll get over it. What did you guys do?”

 

“Not much,” Buffy said. “Spike and Tara cooked, and we ate. That was pretty much the extent of things.”

 

Xander’s eyebrows went up. “Spike? You asked Spike to spend Christmas with you guys?”

 

“Dawn wanted him,” was Buffy’s even reply. “Besides, there weren’t a lot of other people I could invite.”

 

“But it’s Spike,” Xander repeated. “Vampires don’t celebrate Christmas.”

 

Buffy hid her annoyance behind her coffee mug, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Really, this was getting a little old. She knew that they’d all worked with Spike over the summer. What was their problem with him now? “You could have fooled me. Spike even had gifts for us.”

                                                                                                                                            

“Like what? He probably stole it.”

 

“He got me a trust fund.”

 

“What?” Xander stared at her. “Come again?”

 

“Spike got me a trust fund.” Buffy smiled serenely. “I’m pretty much thinking it’s the best gift ever.”

 

Xander blinked. “Did he rob a bank?”

 

“No, he went and dug up some buried treasure.”

 

“You can’t take that from him,” Xander insisted. “You know he’s going to want—things from you. That kind of money—”

 

“I needed money, Xander,” Buffy said quietly. “Badly. I haven’t said much about it, but we were barely scraping by.”

 

“You could get a job,” Xander said. “The rest of us have.”

 

“The rest of you aren’t the Slayer,” Buffy retorted, her voice rising. She was starting to get just a little pissed off, and it felt good. “The ‘rest of you’ don’t patrol every night, or have to worry about apocalypses, or making sure your little sister stays out of trouble so social services doesn’t come and take her away. And the rest of you sure as hell weren’t dead and happy about being there.”

 

She hadn’t meant to say all that. Buffy really hadn’t meant to let all that out, but Xander’s thoughtless words had hit the right button. He was always doing that—always seeing her as some sort of superhero and then holding her up to an impossible standard. She shouldn’t have been with Angel, she shouldn’t have freaked and run away when she’d killed him, she should have been able to hang onto Riley.

 

Well, maybe that had been true of the Buffy they’d buried, but it wasn’t true about her.

 

They stared at each other, two old friends suddenly separated by a seemingly unbridgeable gap. Xander swallowed hard, not liking this sudden turn, and yet knowing that it was partially his fault. He’d been one of the people to bring her back. “Buffy—”

 

“I’m sorry, Xander,” Buffy said softly. “That wasn’t fair.”

 

“But it’s how you feel.”

 

There was a long pause. “Yeah, it pretty much is.”

 

Xander looked down at the countertop for a long time. “Spike’s just using this, Buffy. He thinks he’s in love with you, and—”

 

“He is in love with me.”

 

His head came up, and his eyes widened in disbelief. “He hasn’t actually convinced you of that!”

 

“He didn’t need to, Xander. Spike’s actions speak for him.” Buffy shook her head. “Believe what you want. I know better.”

 

Xander’s face twisted in disgust. “What are you going to do when he’s not satisfied with the crumbs you’re giving him?” he demanded.

 

Buffy just smiled. “Who said all he was getting were crumbs?”

 

~~~~~

 

Dawn woke up to the sounds of shouting. At first, she thought maybe it was Buffy and Spike because she could hear her sister and then a male voice. It didn’t take her too long to recognize Xander’s strident tones or to pick Spike’s name out of the mess. Apparently Buffy had decided to spill the beans early.

 

She hauled herself out of bed, intent on getting downstairs and doing whatever she had to do to make Xander see reason.

 

Okay, so she probably wouldn’t be able to do anything, but she could offer Buffy her support.

 

By the time she got downstairs, however, the shouting match was over, and Xander was on his way out the door. He didn’t even stop to say hello, and Dawn immediately went to check on Buffy. “What happened?”

 

“I might have let it slip that I was sleeping with Spike,” Buffy admitted.

 

Dawn winced. “I guess he didn’t take it well.”

 

Buffy rolled her eyes. “‘Spike is evil, he’s giving you money to get in your pants, you need to do the right thing this time.’ I told him that I’d been doing the right thing, and if I had to kill another boyfriend I would, but until then it was none of his business.”

 

“Wow, Buffy,” Dawn said, watching her sister with a mixture of admiration and concern. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

 

“Because I didn’t cave?” Buffy demanded. She wasn’t angry with Dawn; she was just still on edge from the fight. “I like being with Spike. Spike likes being with me. What’s so difficult about that?”

 

“He’s a vampire?” Dawn hedged.

 

Buffy scowled. “So what? I’m a Slayer, and you don’t see them giving Spike an intervention. Or, you know, his demon friends doing that. They aren’t telling him what a bad vampire he is for sleeping with the Slayer. Why should I get different treatment?”

 

“But Spike’s always getting told that,” Dawn replied. “Clem said—” She stopped right there. Buffy didn’t know about that night, and it was probably better that she never find out.

 

It was too late. “What did Clem say?” Buffy asked. “And who’s Clem?”

 

Dawn shifted uncomfortably, finally deciding that she wasn’t going to get off the hook this time. “Clem’s one of Spike’s demon friends. He’s really nice,” she added quickly. “He came over once when Spike was—staying with me this summer. He said that there were some rumors going around that Spike had gotten soft because everyone knew he was hanging around Sunnydale for the Slayer. Clem said that if anyone found out that Spike was helping you baby-sit me, he’d be in deep trouble.”

 

“When was this?” Buffy asked.

 

Dawn tried to remember. “Towards the end, right before school started. I didn’t tell anybody, because they weren’t supposed to know that Clem came over.”

 

Buffy closed her eyes. The tranquil mood from earlier had been broken completely. Even if the demon population of Sunnydale hadn’t known that she was dead, they were apparently cognizant of Spike’s changed allegiances. It was the first time that Buffy realized what Spike might be giving up, and what kind of danger he could potentially find himself in.

 

“Did Spike seem worried?”

 

“No. He said that it wasn’t a big deal, and it was just talk.” Dawn gave her sister a hopeful look. “You’re not going to break up with Spike, are you?”

 

Buffy shook her head. “No, but I think I’m going to have to find a way to make things up with Xander. I just don’t know what to say. Everything I said was true, but it didn’t come out very nicely.”

 

“Xander wasn’t being very nice either,” Dawn said philosophically. “I could hear him from my bedroom.”

 

~~~~~

 

“This one looks nice.”

 

“How far is it from the Slayer’s place?”

 

“Maybe a ten minute walk,” Tara guessed.

 

Spike frowned. “Dawn’s school?”

 

“About the same,” Tara replied. “It’s closer to her school than your crypt is.” She gave him a look tinged with affectionate exasperation. “Are you really _that_ attached to your place?”

 

They were at Tara’s place, going over newspaper ads for apartments. Deciding to find other living arrangements was not a decision Spike had come to lightly. It was a combination of factors, really. Buffy’s statement that she didn’t want Dawn hanging around cemeteries all the time, her own distaste for the crypt—cozy as it might be, Tara’s admonishment that he was going to have to play his cards right.

 

To a certain extent, it galled him. Spike hadn’t paid for a place to live in—well, he’d never really paid. As a man, his home had been inherited from his father. As a vampire, he’d taken what he needed when he needed it. For him to change now seemed almost ridiculous.

 

But Buffy was coming around. She’d invited him into her home, into her bed. She was beginning to tell her friends about their relationship. She was treating him like a man, even if it was more like a problematic boyfriend, rather than a welcomed lover.

 

Spike had started thinking that if she was unbending that much, perhaps a gesture on his part was warranted. If he moved out of the crypt, got his own place, it might be enough to show Buffy that they could work.

 

So because she’d given a bit, he would give a bit. In time, maybe, they’d manage to make a cozy little place for themselves somewhere in the middle.

 

Spike wanted it to be a surprise, though, and so he’d gone to Tara for help. There hadn’t been many offerings this time of the year, but she’d insisted that something would turn up. It looked like something had.

 

“Basement?”

 

Tara nodded. “It looks like they’re offering discounted rent, too.”

 

Spike cocked his head to the side, thinking about it for a moment. “Guess we’d better check it out then.”

 

“You want me to go with you?” Tara asked in surprise.

 

Spike raised his eyebrows. “Unless you’d rather not. I don’t bloody well know how to talk to these people, ducks. It’s not like I’ve had to do this before.”

 

“I don’t mind,” Tara was quick to assure him. Amazingly enough, Spike wasn’t too hard to get along with. Around the Scoobies, he was prickly and sarcastic, and it was easy to see why they disliked him so much. Around her, or Buffy and Dawn, he was actually a pretty nice guy, if you discounted the fact that he was a vampire.

 

“Good.” Spike sighed. “And then I need to program my sodding mobile.”

 

Tara managed to hide her surprise, making her question sound like she was merely expressing mild interest. “You got a phone?”

 

“Had to, didn’t I?” Spike asked. “Last time Dawn invited herself over to my crypt, she nearly gave Buffy a heart attack since we had to wait ‘til after dark for me to walk her home. Buffy said I had to get a phone so I could let her know where Dawn was. Or in case she needed me.”

 

Tara smiled. “It’s good of you to be there for both of them, Spike.”

 

Spike shrugged, his mouth twisting into a sardonic smile. “What’s one more leash when they’ve already got me tamed?”

 

“Not tamed,” Tara responded thoughtfully. “I don’t think you’ll ever be tamed.”

 

Spike’s eyes warmed. “You’re alright, Glinda.”

 

She just grinned. “You’re not too bad yourself.”


	10. Detente

**“I didn’t hear you leave, I wonder how am I still here/I don’t want to move a thing, it might change my memory/Oh, I am what I am, I’ll do what I want, but I can’t hide/I won’t go, I won’t sleep, I can’t breathe, until you’re resting here with me…I don’t want to call my friends, they might wake me from this dream/and I can’t leave this bed, risk forgetting all that’s been…I cannot be until you’re resting here with me.” ~Dido, “Here With Me”**

 

The honking horn in the driveway alerted Dawn to the fact that Xander was waiting for her. “I have to go,” she said, quickly swallowing the last bite of her waffles. “Is Spike coming over tonight?”

 

“That’s what he said,” Buffy replied. “Clean up your—” She sighed as she realized Dawn was already out of range. “—plate.” She rolled her eyes. “Why can’t she ever pick up after herself?”

 

She grabbed the plate and finished cleaning up the kitchen, realizing that she had the rest of the day free and nothing to do. Xander still wasn’t speaking to her, as evidenced by the honking horn, rather than his coming to the door. Willow was acting coldly towards her as well. Buffy was starting to wonder if she should even bother going through with her plans for a birthday party this year. There might not be anyone to attend.

 

Maybe she should just give up on birthdays altogether.

 

Buffy frowned when she heard the doorbell ring. She hadn’t been expecting anyone, and it was a little early for anyone to be coming over. If Tara stopped by, it was usually in the afternoon, after her class.

 

The woman at the door wasn’t anybody Buffy recognized. “May I help you?”

 

“Buffy Summers?” the lady asked.

 

Buffy frowned. “That’s right. I’m sorry, but do I know you?”

 

“We had a meeting for this morning,” the woman said. “I’m Doris Kroeger, from social services. I’m here to do a home visit regarding Dawn Summers, your sister.”

 

“Oh!” Buffy exclaimed, frantically trying to remember whether she’d set the appointment up. She didn’t remember doing anything of the sort. “I’m sorry, it must have slipped my mind. Please, come in. Do you want some coffee?”

 

“That would be fine,” Mrs. Kroeger replied, glancing around the interior. The house was reasonably clean, although she could tell that it had probably been a few days since anyone had dusted. Still, the house appeared to be well kept, as did the kitchen when she followed Buffy back. “Were you busy this morning?”

 

“No, not really,” Buffy said, trying to keep a cheerful, open expression on her face while she tried to figure out if she’d already screwed this up. What if she got a bad grade for not remembering? She had coffee, though, so that had to count for something, right? And she’d managed to clean the other day, so that was good.

 

Mrs. Kroeger nodded. “You don’t work?”

 

“I’m going to start back at school soon,” Buffy replied. “Dawn and I inherited some money from a relative recently, and it’s enough to take care of us.”

 

The older woman made a humming sound. “I see.”

 

Buffy didn’t think she did. “I’ve been thinking about looking for a job,” she offered. “It’s just that I want to be sure that I’m here for Dawn, and I had thought I was going to be able to go back to school this semester, but everything has been so crazy since—since Mom died that—”

 

“You can relax, Miss Summers,” Mrs. Kroeger said. “Dawn’s attendance at school has greatly improved lately, and her teachers were very positive about her performance. We’re not in the habit of removing children from their homes for no reason.”

 

Buffy let out a relieved breath. “Thank you so much. I mean, I know there have been problems in the past, but Dawn and I are trying to work on them, and I—”

 

“Do you have any help?” Mrs. Kroeger asked. “Taking care of your younger sister, going back to school, that’s quite a bit of pressure to put on a young woman.”

 

“Oh, I’m used to pressure,” Buffy replied. “I—Well, there’s Sp-William. My boyfriend. He’s really good with Dawn.”

 

“You have a boyfriend?”

 

Buffy straightened her shoulders, hoping that she wasn’t giving the wrong answer. “Yes.”

 

“He and Dawn get along?”

 

“Really well,” Buffy said. “He knew Mom, and he’s known Dawn for a long time. William was friends with Mom a long time before we started dating.” It wasn’t a total lie. Spike had definitely had a better relationship with Joyce than with her for a very long time.

 

Mrs. Kroeger nodded, as though making a mental note. “And your friends?”

 

Buffy tried to hide a wince, resisting the urge to say, “What friends?” Instead, what she did say, was, “I have some good friends who have been very helpful.”

 

Mrs. Kroeger nodded, standing. “Well, it seems that everything is in order. I did want you to know that we have been trying to contact your father, but he seems to be out of the country.”

 

“Yeah, with, um—”

 

“His secretary,” Mrs. Kroeger supplied, her eyes warming slightly. “I’ll be honest, Miss Summers. Placing children with older siblings isn’t always successful. There are often problems since younger siblings have a difficult time respecting their older siblings’ authority. However, I would rather Dawn be with family if at all possible. If your father was available, it might be a different story, but for right now I think she’s better off in your care.”

 

“Thank you,” Buffy replied, managing a smile. “I—I promised my mom I’d take care of her.”

 

Mrs. Kroeger nodded. “I understand. I can let myself out. You have a nice day, Miss Summers.”

 

Buffy heard the front door close and then slumped in her seat. It was one more worry that she could release. It was a relief not to be thinking that social services would find her unfit to take care of Dawn. That was something she’d been concerned about since before her death.

 

An idea suddenly occurred to her. It had been months since she’d been able to get her hair done. With money as tight as it had been, haircuts and coloring had been way out of her budget. Now, however, it might be time to do something nice for herself. She wouldn’t have to get too much cut off, just a trim, but—

 

It seemed like the perfect way to spend an afternoon.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike was sleeping deeply when the brush of a hand against his bare chest woke him. “Wha—”

 

“Hey, sleepyhead.”

 

Buffy was smiling down at him, a bemused expression on her face. Spike smiled back, relaxing back onto the bed. “What are you doing here, luv? Not that it isn’t a pleasant surprise,” he hastened to assure her.

 

“I had a little trouble earlier,” she replied. “I just thought you might want to know.”

 

“Trouble?” Spike was instantly alert, propping himself up on his elbows. He frowned. “Did you do something different with your hair?”

 

Buffy reached up self-consciously. “Yeah, do you like it?”

 

It was a little shorter, but not by much. Truth be told, if Spike didn’t notice _everything_ about Buffy, he probably wouldn’t have found anything to comment on. “It’s lovely.” He straightened up, reaching for the pair of jeans lying on the floor. “Trouble?”

 

“Remember that revolving day I had not too long ago?” she asked. “I told you about it.”

 

“And then we went and got drunk,” Spike recalled, a nostalgic smile lighting his face. “Yeah. That was fun.”

 

“Fun for the guy who did not puke his guts up afterwards,” Buffy replied. “Anyway, I think I know who’s doing it now. Or at least I think I know how I can find them.”

 

Spike yanked his jeans on. “Okay. So what happened?”

 

“I nearly got hit by this beam thingie,” Buffy explained. “I was coming out of the stylist’s shop, and I heard this commotion, so I turned and saw these three guys standing in an alley.”

 

“What were they doing in an alley?”

 

“How should I know?” Buffy took a seat on the bed. “They were fighting over something, and then this red beam thing shot out of it—”

 

“It was a gun?”

 

“A ray gun,” Buffy explained, trying to be patient. “I might actually get to tell you the story if you’d stop interrupting.”

 

“Well, excuse me for wanting a bit of clarification,” Spike muttered.

 

Buffy gave him a pert look. “You’re excused. This time.” She grinned as Spike rolled his eyes. “Anyway, the beam missed me by a hair, hit a dumpster, a fire hydrant, and a tree, and they all disappeared.”

 

Spike looked at her in disbelief. “Come on, Slayer. Pull the other one.”

 

“I’m serious!” she shot back. “You don’t believe me.”

 

Spike leaned forward to nibble on her lip. “Never said that.”

 

Buffy pulled back to glare at him. “You implied it.”

 

“I didn’t mean it that way.” He searched her face for a long moment. “You mean it.”

 

“Yes! It disappeared.” Buffy’s eyes gleamed. “They’re probably responsible for the frozen security guard, too. We never did figure out what caused that.”

 

Spike nodded, acknowledging that it was a valid theory. “So what are we going to do about it?”

 

Buffy’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t know, Spike. This is where I’d call the gang in, ask them to help me research or…” She trailed off. “I don’t know what to do.”

 

“Then call your friends, Buffy.”

 

Buffy stared at him. “We’re fighting.”

 

“And now you’ve got something else to fight.” Spike shook his head. “Luv, you’ve fought before, and every time you’ve come back together when you’ve had to face something bigger.”

 

She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s that easy this time. I need them to see me, Spike. I need them to realize that I’m not this person they seem to think I am.”

 

Spike was silent for a moment. “What do you want me to do?”

 

“I don’t know. I’m not sure what’s next.”

 

He ran a gentle hand down her hair. “Then we’ll just have to figure it out.”

 

~~~~~

 

The silence in the Magic Box was very nearly overwhelming. Buffy couldn’t decide if Spike being there was more moral support or a lightning rod for her friends’ disapproval. Spike had been right about one thing, though. She had called, and they had come.

 

“Look, I know we’ve had our differences recently,” Buffy began.

 

“What is _he_ doing here?” Xander demanded, jerking his head at Spike.

 

Dawn beat her sister to the punch. “He’s here because we want him here, Xander. Even if Buffy didn’t want him here, I would.”

 

“Dawn’s right, Xander,” Buffy said. “Spike’s helped in the past. You’ve been okay with that.”

 

“That was an emergency situation!” Xander protested.

 

Buffy narrowed her eyes. “This is the Hellmouth, Xan. We’re always going to be in an emergency situation, which means Spike’s pretty much always going to be around, if that’s going to be your reasoning. Deal with it.” She looked around the room. “Does anyone else have any objections?”

 

Willow had remained silent through all of this. When she did speak, Buffy found it impossible to read her. “You’ve always dated who you wanted, Buffy.”

 

Buffy wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. “You’re right, Will,” she said carefully. “This is my choice. I want to make it clear that wherever Spike and I might stand, he’s part of the team. He’s earned that right.”

 

“I don’t care,” Anya announced. “And you look much happier now that Spike is giving you orgasms.”

 

Buffy could hear Spike choking on his laughter. “Thank you for your support, Anya,” she said carefully. “So are you guys willing to help me out on this?”

 

Xander grimaced. “Yeah. You know I’m there for you, Buf.”

 

“Willow?”

 

“I’ll always be here for you, Buffy.”

 

Buffy could hear the guilt trip Willow had laid for her in those words. There was the insinuation that Buffy had not been there for her, and that she had rejected Willow’s support. Buffy might have let that cause her some discomfort in the past, but not anymore. She knew what she wanted right now. She wanted Spike, and she wanted to be done with these pests, whomever they might be.

 

And Buffy wasn’t going to let anything stand in her way.

 

“Thank you.” She looked around at the group. “Okay, I’m thinking first we need to trace this black van. I know it’s been following me, and I saw those guys with the van yesterday.”

 

Willow nodded. “I can check on that, Buffy. My hacker skills are still good.”

 

“Great. I think that’s the best place to start.”

 

Xander raised his hand. “What do you want me to do, Buffy?”

 

“Nothing, right now,” she replied. “When we find out where they’re hiding, though, I’ll definitely need you, especially if they’re human.”

 

Xander smiled. It wasn’t a very nice one. “That’s right. Willy-Wanna-Bite isn’t much good when it comes to humans, is he?”

 

“I guess that makes us even since you’re not much good when it comes to demons,” Spike shot back.

 

“That’s enough, both of you,” Buffy said, shooting both of them a quelling look. “There’ll be enough ass-kicking to go around.” She looked at Willow. “So, you ready?”

 

Willow smiled. “As always.”

 

~~~~~

 

It was almost like old times. Almost. Buffy couldn’t ignore the tension in the room, however. Nor could she completely avoid the snide comments that both Willow and Xander were tossing Spike’s way. There was a part of her that wanted to disregard it, and just let Spike deal with it himself. The other part of her wanted to tell them, in no uncertain terms, to shut up and deal with it.

 

For now, she was keeping her mouth shut because no one seemed to be getting out of hand, and Spike was controlling his temper. Xander eventually went to join Anya at the counter, where she had begun counting down her drawer, and Dawn was lazily flipping through a book on herbs.

 

Spike sat next to her on the stairs, and Buffy could feel the tension radiating off of him. She knew how much he liked sitting still.

 

They were really two of a kind.

 

“I’ve got it,” Willow announced. She took out a pad of paper and began to jot down names and addresses. “These are all the owners of black vans here in Sunnydale.”

 

“Good,” Buffy announced. “So I’m going to find the responsible parties and kick some ass.”

 

“I’m going with you,” Spike stated.

 

Buffy glanced at him, hesitating for just a second. If they were human, there wouldn’t be much Spike could do against them. If she took Xander with her, she might actually have a shot at salvaging their friendship. No matter how angry she was at them—at the people who had brought her back—she didn’t want to lose their friendship. Her eyes flicked to Dawn, and Spike rolled his eyes.

 

“Fine,” he said, even though she hadn’t spoken. “Dawn, let’s get out of here. You hungry?”

 

Dawn looked up, looking between Spike and her sister, surprised that Spike wasn’t accompanying Buffy. What hadn’t been said, but what both Spike and Buffy knew, was that Buffy didn’t trust her little sister’s welfare to just anyone.

 

Buffy wasn’t ready to trust Willow with Dawn again. Not yet.

 

“Starving,” Dawn finally replied. “What are we having?”

 

“I’ll figure something out.”

 

The door over the shop’s door jingled as they left. Buffy felt strangely bereft without Spike’s presence. She realized they’d spent more time together over the last few weeks than she had with her friends.

 

Buffy turned to look at Xander. “Ready to go?”

 

“Do I need a weapon?”

 

Her eyes narrowed in thought. “Grab the tranq gun,” she advised. “If nothing else, it looks scary, and it won’t hurt them.”

 

~~~~~

 

“So are you mad at her?”

 

“Mad at who for what?”

 

“Mad at Buffy for making you take me home,” Dawn replied as they walked under a streetlamp. “I mean, you got stuck with me.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Spike demanded. “I didn’t get ‘stuck’ with you, and Buffy can’t make me do anything. She can ask, and I’ll probably do it because I’m love’s bitch, but there was no force involved. Think she’d have to force me to spend time with you?”

 

Dawn shrugged, trying to hide a pleased grin. “I guess not.”

 

“There you go. That’s your answer.” Spike nudged her arm. “Besides, I know how Buffy thinks, and you’re her priority, Bit. She’s going to put her best man on the job, yeah?”

 

Dawn rolled her eyes at that piece of arrogance. “Yeah, right. She just wants to keep both of us out of trouble.”

 

“I guess that says something, doesn’t it?” Spike asked. He wasn’t sure who the question was directed at—Dawn or himself.

 

Dawn caught the uncertain note in his voice, and she summoned up a grin. “I think it says a ton. My sister is totally crazy for you.”

 

“Is that right? She talk in her sleep then?”

 

“No, but I peeked in her diary.”

 

Spike knew he should reprimand her. He knew that a responsible adult would tell Dawn that it was bad manners to look through other people’s private journals. What’s more, he knew that if someone had done the same thing to him, he’d be angry enough to yank their eyeballs out.

 

He’d never claimed to be a responsible adult.

 

“You go through my things and you won’t live to tell the tale,” Spike warned, his harsh tone letting Dawn know that he meant business. Then his scowl softened just a bit. “So, tell me what she said.”

 

Dawn scoffed. “Yeah right.”

 

“You want Buffy to know you went into her personal diary?”

 

Her eyes widened, shocked. “You wouldn’t!”

 

“Of course I would. I’m evil. So spill.”

 

Dawn decided that she’d pretty much dug herself a hole. “Okay.” There was a long pause. “She thinks about you all the time.”

 

“That’s it?”

 

“Pretty much,” Dawn replied. “I mean, there was more about not really knowing what she wanted and being sad a lot, but—”

 

“How long ago did you read that?” Spike asked.

 

Dawn frowned. “A few weeks. Why?”

 

Spike shook his head. “That’s when—” He stopped. That didn’t tell him anything new. So Buffy thought about him all the time. He wanted to know how she felt _now_. “What made you sneak around, Dawn?” Spike asked. “I didn’t take you for the type to go behind your sister’s back like that.”

 

Dawn flushed. “It was just that Buffy wasn’t talking to me, and she wasn’t really even looking at me. I wanted to know what was going on.”

 

“Understandable, Bit.” Spike smiled a bit and touched her cheek. “You ever need to know something from me, though, you just ask. Got it?”

 

“Got it.”

 

“Then let’s get you fed.”

 

~~~~~

 

Xander was silent for a whole five minutes after they’d left the Magic Box to check the first address. “I don’t understand, Buffy. Spike’s evil.”

 

“Spike isn’t evil.”

 

“He’s a demon.”

 

“And what am I, Xander?” Buffy asked, her voice hard. “I’m the Slayer. I’m certainly not human.”

 

“Of course you are,” Xander sputtered. “You—you’re Buffy.”

 

“Buffy does not equal human. Buffy equals Slayer.” She sighed. “Look, I’m not asking you to understand it, but I am asking you to treat Spike with a little courtesy.”

 

“Buffy—”

 

“If you can’t do that, then you’re not my friend.”

 

Xander stopped dead. “You’re saying you’d choose Spike over your friends?”

 

“No, I’m saying that if you make me choose Spike over you, you’re not my friend. Spike makes me happy. I don’t know why, but he makes being alive bearable. If you can’t at least accept that much, that I’m happier because he’s around, then you’re not my friend. If you would rather me live up to your expectations of what you think I ought to be or do, than have me be okay with being alive…” Buffy trailed off, leaving it there. She’d given Xander enough information to work with.

 

Xander grimaced. Put that way, he didn’t have a choice. “I don’t like him. I’m never going to like him.”

 

“I’m not asking you to like him.”

 

“And I still think he’s going to turn on you.”

 

“Fair enough. I don’t agree, but you’re entitled to your opinion.” Buffy glanced over at him. “So are we good?”

 

Xander nodded slowly. If he had to put up with Spike in order to keep his friend, he’d do it. He wouldn’t be happy doing it, but he would. There was just one more thing Xander felt like he needed to get off of his chest. “Buffy, I’m sorry. For bringing you back, I mean. I’m glad you’re here, but…”

 

Buffy’s face relaxed into a smile. “Thank you, Xander.”


	11. Revenge of the Nerds

**“…The fog is so thick/I can’t see my hands/It got much worse/Soon as I got in/And I know you’re somewhere/Here in the water/It’s ten feet deep/And the river won’t stop/I’ll tell you what’s in it/When I make it across/You could make it too/If you let someone help you/But you gotta give in/And you gotta let go/Then you can begin/To come up slow/Like a desert rose…” ~The Wallflowers, “How Good It Can Get”**

 

Buffy recognized the van immediately. “That’s it right there.”

 

Xander raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

 

“Positive. Let’s go.”

 

“Buffy, wait a minute. What are we going to do if these guys are human?” Xander’s voice betrayed his doubt. “It’s not like you can kill them.”

 

“I can beat them up,” Buffy replied.

 

Xander thought about trying to talk her out of it and then decided that it was a losing battle. He was better off just following her lead. If Buffy got too out of hand, Xander was fairly sure he’d be able to talk her down.

 

He was almost positive.

 

Buffy marched right up to the front door and knocked. A pleasant-looking woman opened the door, and Xander quickly hid the tranq gun behind his back. “May I help you?”

 

“I’m looking for the guys that own the van parked outside,” Buffy said, trying for a smile that would put the woman at ease. “It backed into my car, and—”

 

The woman frowned. “That Warren!”

 

Buffy blinked, suddenly realizing why the house looked so familiar. She had been here before when she was chasing down Warren Mears over the girlfriend-bot. “Warren Mears?”

 

“You know Warren?” the woman asked, obviously wondering why Buffy wouldn’t have known that it was Warren’s house or Warren’s van.

 

Buffy smiled. “We met at a party last year. It’s been a long time.”

 

“Oh, okay,” she replied. “Do you want to see him? I think he’s in the basement with his friends.”

 

“That would be great,” Buffy replied. “I really appreciate it.”

 

Mrs. Mears gave Xander a doubtful look. “I can show both of you down there. Or there’s the other entrance.”

 

“Why don’t we use that one?” Buffy suggested. “I’m sure Warren won’t mind.”

 

She directed them around to the side of the house, and they both took off into the darkness. “Do you think they know we’re coming?”

 

“I don’t know,” Buffy said grimly. “I wouldn’t put it past Warren, that little sleaze. I should have brought Spike with me.”

 

Xander looked hurt. “Why Spike?”

 

“Because Spike can threaten to eat them,” Buffy replied with a wry grin. “I don’t think that threat would carry the same weight coming from you.”

 

Xander winced. “Probably not.”

 

Buffy opened the cellar door with a well-placed kick, knowing that the sound would probably carry to Mrs. Mears. Hopefully the woman would ignore the noise. “Honey, I’m home.”

 

Silence met her, and she clattered down the steps, Xander right behind her, the tranq gun held at the ready. “I know you’re still here,” Buffy said. “And I know what you’ve been up to. If you turn yourselves in, I might be persuaded not to hurt you. A lot.”

 

Someone hit Xander from behind, but he’d been thrown around by demons. Xander might not be the toughest guy around, but he could take a hit. It was pure reflex that had him slamming the butt of the gun into the chest of the thing behind him. He heard a very human, “Ooof!” and then a thud.

 

“Buffy!”

 

“I’ve got it,” she replied. Buffy had fought invisible assailants before. When Tara had done her blinding spell last year, she’d fought Lei-ach demons she couldn’t see. Of course, that time Spike had been there yelling directions at her.

 

And Tara had withdrawn her spell before anyone got hurt.

 

Buffy had a feeling that not even Spike would be able to see these guys. It seemed they’d used their invisibility ray on themselves.

 

Lucky for her that they were rather inept, even when they had the visual advantage.

 

She could feel one of them make a grab for her arm from behind, and Buffy gave him a sharp elbow in what she hoped was his face. The crack and yelp of pain told her that she was right on the mark, and her knee found a soft target in front of her.

 

A grim smile grew on her face as she realized exactly what she’d hit, and Buffy reached out and grabbed for the guy in front of her. Once she figured out that she had the back of his shirt, it was easy to yank him up and lock an arm around his throat. “Okay, who am I talking to?”

 

“Warren.” The name was gasped, rather than spoken, and Buffy eased her grip slightly. It was hard to tell how tightly she was holding him. “Warren,” he repeated, a little more clearly.

 

“Tell your friends to back off.”

 

“I don’t—” She tightened her grip just a little. “Back off!”

 

“Good. I see that you might actually be reasonable. Now I want to see you guys. Make it happen.”

 

There was the sound of scuffling, and then someone picked up the object Buffy recognized as the ray gun she’d seen them holding in the alley. The first to appear was Jonathan, and her eyes narrowed. “Jonathan.”

 

Jonathan gulped when he realized he’d been recognized, and another boy who Buffy couldn’t identify quickly reappeared. “And you would be?”

 

“Andrew Wells,” the boy said. Then, when no one seemed to be familiar with him, he muttered. “Tucker’s brother.”

 

Buffy sighed. “Right.” She released her hostage and gave him a shove. “Last one.”

 

When all three of them were visible, she stared at them, hands on her hips. “What the hell am I supposed to do with you? And what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

 

Warren pulled himself up straight. “We’re your arch nemesis-es.”

 

“Okay, that’s lame,” Xander put in. “We’ve had nemeses, and you don’t fit the bill.”

 

“We’re evil masterminds!” Andrew insisted. “We’re going to rule Sunnydale.”

 

“Shut up, nimrod,” Jonathan hissed. “Don’t tell her that!”

 

Buffy wasn’t in the mood for beating them up now. They were too pathetic for that. At the same time, she couldn’t just let them go. Who knows what they’d do next?

 

“Buffy, look,” Xander said, nodding at another weapon lying on a workbench.

 

She didn’t understand what he was pointing at right away, but then she saw the diamond in the small chamber on top of the gun; it looked like the diamond from the museum heist. “What do you know? It looks like I’ve got all the evidence I need to call the cops.”

 

“No!” Warren said, trying to rush her.

 

Xander shot him with a tranq before he could grab her, and Warren went down like a ton of bricks. “Does somebody else want to take a shot at the Slayer?”

 

Andrew and Jonathan shook their heads frantically.

 

“Where’s your phone?” Buffy demanded.

 

Jonathan handed over a cell phone without a word. She dialed 911 and waited for the operator’s voice. “Yes, I have information on the robbery at the museum.”

 

~~~~~

 

It was late when Buffy finally got home. The police had questions on how she and Xander had known about the nerds’ role in the robbery. They had managed to throw them off with the same story they’d told Warren’s mother. They had come by about a car accident and had seen the diamond.

 

When the cops had asked Xander about the tranq gun, he’d replied, “Well, you can’t be too careful after dark, can you?”

 

One of the officers had laughed a little at that and let them go.

 

All in all, it had been a very productive evening. Buffy was a little disappointed that she hadn’t been able to beat anyone up, but the nerds were behind bars where they belonged, and her friendship with Xander was back on solid ground.

 

The whole thing had been kind of—fun.

 

“How’d it go, luv?” Spike emerged from the darkness of the kitchen, bringing the scent of smoke with him. “Get the bad guys?”

 

“They are now behind bars,” Buffy replied. “So that’s one less thing to worry about.”

 

Spike brushed her hair back. “What else are you worrying over? Anything I can clear up for you?”

 

“Just the usual,” she responded. “I think Xander and I are going to be okay, but I’m not so sure about Willow.”

 

Spike ran the back of his hand over her cheek. “Give her time, Buffy. She’ll come around eventually.”

 

“You don’t know that.”

 

“No, I don’t. Wish I did.”

 

“I didn’t think you liked my friends.”

 

Spike shrugged. “Not about me, is it?”

 

Buffy didn’t want to think about what those words meant. The depth of feeling they revealed. She knew he loved her, but most of the time she could push that information aside. She could fool herself that what they had was an easy, casual thing.

 

What she and Spike had wasn’t easy, nor could it ever be casual. It was just that she didn’t particularly want to think about what it was going to be. Not when it was so good right now.

 

So Buffy did what she was best at in moment like these. She changed the subject. “How’s Dawn?”

 

Spike’s expression told her that he knew she was trying to change the subject, but he let it slide. “She’s sleeping.”

 

“What did you guys do?” She started wandering towards the kitchen.

 

Spike followed her, watching as Buffy rummaged through the refrigerator. “I made dinner, checked over her homework, that’s about the end of it.”

 

“You looked over her homework?” Buffy turned to stare at him.

 

Spike looked off to the side, refusing to meet her eyes. “Yeah, well, dunno how much help I was, but I checked it over.”

 

It hit her again—how little she really knew about Spike. He was such a mystery to her. All angles and hard edges, until he revealed some soft spot. Who would have ever imagined that the same vampire who’d come roaring into Sunnydale would have turned into the guy that made sure a teenage girl didn’t go hungry and got her homework done?

 

Buffy wanted to pull him upstairs, lead him to her bed, and never let him go. She also wanted to run away, for fear that she ended up loving him so much that she lost herself.

 

There was no way she could go through that again. If she had to kill the man she loved again…

 

“It’s not going to happen.”

 

“What’s not going to happen?” Buffy asked, startled out of her thoughts. She didn’t think she’d spoken aloud.

 

“Whatever it is you’re thinking about,” he replied. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s not going to happen.”

 

A smile touched her lips, if not her eyes. “How did you know?”

 

“Your face gives it away every time, pet.” Spike’s fingers passed over the lines in her forehead, around her mouth. “You get that worried look I hate seeing.”

 

Buffy met his eyes. “Promise me that no matter what happens you’ll be on my side, Spike. Even if that chip of yours—”

 

He cut her off with a kiss that was half-angry, half-tender. “If you have to ask me for that, then you don’t know me all that well.”

 

“I told you that I didn’t know you.” Buffy stared into her eyes. “Swear to me.”

 

“I swear. You know I’d never do anything to hurt you.” Spike’s mouth came down over hers again, and suddenly Buffy was frantic to feel him, to have him inside her. It all felt too fragile, too transient. Spike could leave tomorrow. She could be forced to stake him tomorrow because of some weird Hellmouth-y thing.

 

She wanted him _now_.

 

Enough rational thought remained for Buffy to mutter, “Dawn” in Spike’s ear. Without breaking contact, Spike spun them both around, steering her towards the back door. His hand left her breast for just long enough to turn the doorknob, and then they were on the porch, fumbling with clothing.

 

They slammed into the side of the house, both of them at the edge of their control. “Spike!”

 

“I know, I know,” he muttered, not releasing her. Instead, they both stumbled down the steps.

 

“Dawn can see us from out here.”

 

“Then where?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

It was Buffy’s turn to steer, and she moved them both deeper into the shadows in the backyard. Spike went down, pulling her on top of him. They were both trying to keep quiet, stifling gasps and moans as best they could. The darkness seemed to insulate them from the rest of the world, making everything that much more unreal.

 

When it was all done, Buffy started snickering.

 

“I didn’t think it was that bad,” Spike muttered.

 

She snorted. “It wasn’t bad at all, and you know it. I was just imagining what my mom would say if she found us.”

 

“Probably tell me to get the hell away from her daughter again,” Spike replied, amusement in his own voice.

 

Buffy smiled. “I think she would have come around to us dating eventually.”

 

“Is that what we’re doing?”

 

“What?

 

“Dating?” Spike raised himself on an elbow. “It’s just I never know with us.”

 

Buffy was quiet. “I don’t know,” she confessed. “It sounds so weird to say. I mean, you’re a vampire, and you live in a crypt and you’ve been around forever.”

 

“I am not that old!” Spike protested, although he didn’t sound terribly insulted by the idea.

 

“You know what I mean,” she replied, smacking him on the chest. “It’s more that saying we’re dating or that you’re my boyfriend seems inadequate somehow.”

 

“So it’s more than that?”

 

“It’s like comparing apples to oranges,” Buffy replied. “Or maybe like comparing chocolate to spinach. Because apples and oranges are both fruit, so I don’t know why you couldn’t compare them.”

 

Here, in the darkness of her backyard, Buffy could say these sorts of things out loud. If they had been in her house, or at Spike’s crypt, she wasn’t sure she would have allowed herself to be so honest. They were in between worlds now, though, in between times. At some sort of happy medium where they could co-exist peaceably.

 

Buffy could just make out Spike’s features. He was mostly hidden in shadow, but she could see the glint of his eyes, and the reflection of the moon on his hair. She watched as his face twisted in pain or discomfort, she couldn’t be sure.

 

“I don’t know what to do for you,” he confessed. “Want to make you happy, luv. I want you—”

 

He stopped there, but Buffy thought she might know what he’d left unspoken. Spike wanted her to want him, he wanted to know that she wasn’t using their relationship as a crutch, that when she was ready to move on, she wouldn’t leave him behind.

 

She wanted to make him a promise. Buffy wanted to reassure him that this wasn’t just a passing fancy on her part, that this would be lasting.

 

And she couldn’t say the words. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she had no idea how to make a promise like that, not when Buffy still felt as though every day was a battle to be fought. So she gave him what little she could, hoping that it would be enough.

 

“You do make me happy, Spike.”

 

His smile was wistful, knowing that he would settle for that much when he really wanted so much more.

 

~~~~~

 

“You could have let me help, you know,” Tara said with some amusement as she looked around Spike’s apartment. It wasn’t much, but it was better than the crypt. From a human point of view, anyway.

 

Spike shrugged. “Wasn’t much, and I had to move everything after sunset anyway. Clem helped.”

 

He was beginning to appreciate the merits of having an apartment. With the money from his treasure trove, he’d managed to not only pay rent on the apartment, but also to get cable. Spike had even managed to get a package that included football coverage—just in time for the World Cup. There seemed to be some definite advantages to living above ground.

 

Well, not quite above ground, since it was a basement apartment, but it certainly wasn’t your average vampire’s lair.

 

There was a part of Spike that wondered what exactly he was doing, and if he wasn’t being an utter fool, turning his life upside down for a girl who had no idea what she wanted.

 

On the other hand, he had a place that Buffy probably wouldn’t mind Dawn visiting now, as well as cable and a consistently working microwave. Not to overlook the fact that no one in the demon world knew where his new place was, save for Clem. Spike had been getting a bad feeling recently, as though he was being followed. Having a comfortable hideout was probably a very good idea.

 

“The place looks nice, Spike,” Tara complimented him. “I think Buffy will appreciate it.”

 

He shook his head. “You sure about that, Tara? Doesn’t seem like…”

 

“This shows Buffy that you’re trying,” she said.

 

Spike laughed shortly. “And what about her? I know she feels something for me, but I don’t know that it’s anything more than just a—what did Anya call them—orgasm friend?”

 

Tara giggled. That definitely sounded like Anya. “I don’t think Buffy’s the kind of girl to have an ‘orgasm friend’ without there being a little something more involved. Just be patient.”

 

He snorted. “Patience is not something I’m good at.”

 

“Then now is a good time to learn,” Tara responded.

 

Spike let that go. He might not like exercising patience, but being with Buffy was forcing him to learn. He knew he couldn’t push too hard, not when they were moving forward a little bit at a time. Spike had the feeling that if he just held on a little longer, Buffy would come to him of her own accord. They’d manage to find that place in the middle.

 

If living in an apartment would speed the process—as Tara seemed to think it would—then Spike would do it.

 

Recalling manners long-buried, Spike asked, “Do you want a cuppa?”

 

“That would be nice,” Tara replied.

 

The silence that fell was soothing, rather than awkward, a reversal of a familiar scene from the previous summer. On occasion, Tara would stay behind from whatever Scooby meeting was taking place to look after Dawn. Since Spike was trying to stick close to the girl, they would sometimes wind up hanging out together by default.

 

Spike didn’t think they had much in common besides a concern for Dawn, but sometimes worrying over the same person was enough to form a bond. It had turned out that they had a bit more than Dawn in common, however. They both liked a quiet cup of tea, and it seemed Tara had a taste for imported beer that Spike wouldn’t have suspected. Tara appealed to a side of him that Spike didn’t let many see.

 

They spoke idly of Tara’s classes. Spike found himself amused by her sly commentary on some of her professors and fellow classmates. She was a sharp one, with a sense of humor that had him chuckling out loud more than once.

 

He was almost disappointed when Tara announced that she had to leave. “I’m supposed to be meeting a study group in fifteen minutes,” she said, regret shading her tone. “Thanks for the tea, though.”

 

“Anytime, pet,” Spike replied.

 

They looked at each other, the silence becoming awkward for the first time that afternoon. “If you need anything…” Tara offered.

 

“Same here,” he quickly replied.

 

She reached out to touch his arm, giving him an encouraging squeeze. “I’ll see you around, Spike.”

 

Spike flipped on the television once Tara had gone, knowing that it would be a couple of hours before he could meet Buffy. He was supposed to meet her for patrol, and then she had suggested they go back to her place to watch a movie with Dawn.

 

He was feeling rather cheerful about the prospect when a knock on the door startled him. Spike hadn’t told Buffy where he’d moved yet; he was saving that for a surprise while he was out on patrol with her.

 

Opening the door, Spike got a sinking feeling. “Willow.”

 

Her eyes were black with anger—and power. “You had to mess with Tara, didn’t you, Spike? It’s not just Buffy that you’re turning against us.”

 

“I think you’ve done that well enough on your own,” he shot back, knowing that angering her further was probably a bad idea, but unable to help himself.

 

She smiled coldly. “That tongue of yours is going to get you in trouble, vampire,” Willow warned him. “Maybe it’s time to shut you up.”


	12. Silence is Golden

**“If I am silent then I am not real/But if I speak up then no one will hear/If I wear a mask there’s somewhere to hide…Did you hear me speak/Do you understand/Did you hear my voice/Will you hold my hand/Do you understand me/Won’t someone listen/Nobody gets in/My body’s a temple/But nothing is simple/Silence is golden/I have been broken/ Something was stolen/Safe in my own skin.” ~Garbage, “Silence Is Golden”**

 

“Buffy!” She was just about to lock the front door when she heard Xander calling her name. “Where are you headed?”

 

“I was just going to patrol,” she replied. “What’s up?”

 

Xander hesitated. “I just thought I’d see how my favorite Summers women were. Is Dawn around?”

 

“She’s coming back later, after she’s done studying with Janice.” Buffy frowned. “What’s up, Xander? Is there something wrong?”

 

Xander shook his head, giving a short laugh. “No, everything’s fine. Why would anything be wrong?”

 

“Maybe because the Magic Box is closing in about fifteen minutes, and you and Anya have been joined at the hip for the last month?” she suggested.

 

Xander shrugged uncomfortably. “Yeah, well, appearances can be deceiving.”

 

“What happened?” Buffy asked. “I thought things were going really well with you guys.”

 

“They were,” he said quickly. “They are. It’s just that vacation we had—it was pretty bad.”

 

Buffy winced. Xander had told her about what happened, but she hadn’t been inclined to give him much sympathy at the time, and their fight had cut the conversation short. She still wasn’t feeling sorry for him, but at least the tension between them had eased up a bit.

 

“Why are you marrying her, Xander?” Buffy asked quietly.

 

He looked hurt. “I know you guys haven’t ever really understood why I’m with Anya, but—”

 

“This isn’t about Anya,” she said impatiently. “This is about _you._ Why are _you_ marrying her? Is it because you love her enough to spend the rest of your life with her, or is it because proposing seemed like the thing to do at the time?”

 

Xander looked like he’d been hit. “Buffy—”

 

“I’m not asking to be mean, but this is a lifetime commitment. Sure, maybe it doesn’t work out, but if you don’t know that you want to spend the rest of your life with her, call the whole thing off now.” Her eyes were intense. “If you call it off now, Anya will be hurt, but you might be able to salvage your relationship. If you wait…”

 

Buffy left the end of the sentence hanging, but she knew Xander understood what she meant. “I don’t know, Buffy. I love her, and the plans…”

 

“It’s not too late to call things off, but you need to be sure about this. If you’re not, you’re both going to be hurt worse down the road.” Buffy gave him an encouraging smile. She found the expression easier to come by these days.

 

Buffy figured that was progress. It had become easier when she pulled off the mask.

 

“I have to get going,” she said. “I’m meeting Spike for patrol.”

 

Xander managed not to make any kind of comment. Instead he just nodded, backing off the porch. “Be careful.”

 

“Sure thing,” she replied, then set off to find Spike.

 

~~~~~

 

When Spike awoke, he had a raging headache. He thought it might be from the chip, since he vaguely remembered trying to toss Willow out of his apartment, thinking that escape would be his best option. He’d known he didn’t stand much chance against her—both because of her magical power and because she was human—but he’d given it a shot.

 

He could feel a bruise rising along one side of his face, and he swiped at the blood from his lip. Spike’s internal clock was telling him that he was late meeting Buffy for patrol, and if he didn’t want her angry with him, he needed to get a move on.

 

It took him longer to reach his crypt than it would have if he hadn’t been so stiff. Buffy was standing outside, waiting for him, impatience in every line of her body. “Hey, luv, sorry I’m late.”

 

“Try not to keep me waiting next time, okay, Spike?” she asked.

 

Spike was disconcerted by her tone of voice. She hadn’t spoken to him in that manner for months now, and while he was late, it wasn’t by more than ten minutes or so. “I ran into some trouble. Willow—”

 

“Let’s go.”

 

She cut him off, turning on her heel and stalking off into the cemetery. Spike stood stock-still for a long moment, trying to figure out what exactly was going on. Realizing that he was allowing her to get quite a head start on him, he jogged to catch up. “Is something wrong?” he asked, grabbing her arm to slow her down.

 

Buffy yanked her arm away. “Is that all you ever think about, Spike? Getting into my pants?”

 

“That’s not what this is about!” Spike shot back, hurt, especially since it was one occasion where he hadn’t been thinking about sex. “What the bloody hell is your problem?”

 

“You! You’re my problem, Spike! If you would just go away, my world would be a much better place.”

 

He backed off a step. “You don’t mean that.”

 

“Yes, I do. It’s been fun, you scratched an itch, and now we’re done. If you didn’t see that, then that’s your problem.”

 

Spike backed up another couple of steps. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Everything had been going so well. Buffy had seemed to be coming around. What the hell had changed in 24 hours? “Buffy—”

 

“Get out of my sight, Spike.”

 

Hurt, reeling, enraged—Spike snarled back, “Fine, Slayer. Don’t come crying to me the next time you need an itch scratched.” He stalked off, wanting nothing more than to find something to kill.

 

And maybe a bottle of something to numb the pain.

 

Spike went hunting first, carefully avoiding the areas that the Slayer usually hit. He didn’t understand what he’d done wrong. Had one of her friends gotten to her? Or maybe it had been this way all along? Maybe the Buffy who had told him that he made her happy was a lie. Except that didn’t make any sense. Why would she lie to him about something like that? They’d always been honest with each other—at least when it came to how much they hated each other.

 

Spike probably wasn’t paying quite as much attention to his surroundings as he should have been. He was turning his conversation with Buffy over and over in his mind, trying to figure out what exactly he’d done.

 

“Just the vampire we were looking for.” The voice came from right in front of him, and Spike’s head shot up, his stomach dropping as he realized that he was surrounded. He cursed himself silently for not paying attention. “You are going to make us very rich.”

 

Spike glanced around the group. They were all demons of indiscriminate parentage. He recognized a few from Willy’s, but he knew none by name. There was no reason for them to come after him for cheating at poker or any other game of chance. “And how am I going to do that?” he asked, playing along.

 

“Haven’t you heard?” one of the other demons growled. “There’s a price on your head. Of course, we don’t need much incentive to kill a traitor.”

 

Spike reached for a stake. It was the only weapon he had on him, since he’d planned on picking up another at his crypt. His weapons collection was one of the few things he hadn’t moved yet. “Don’t think it’s going to be easy,” he replied with a feral smile.

 

“Who said we were looking for easy?” a third asked. “We’re looking for fun.”

 

He disappeared beneath the pile of bodies that suddenly rushed him. And Spike had thought his evening couldn’t get worse.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy watched Spike go, trying to figure out what just happened. His face was bruised, and his lip was split, so she asked him what was wrong. He hadn’t answered. Thinking he was in one of his moods, the Slayer had thought to start patrol, figuring that Spike would open up eventually. Instead, he’d grabbed her arm hard enough to bruise, and when she shook him off and asked him what was wrong—again—he’d stalked off into the night.

 

All of it without speaking a word.

 

Buffy was too irritated with him to really give much thought to Spike’s silence at first. She figured it was just Spike being Spike. He could be as touchy as she was sometimes. Once he got it out of his system he’d come around again.

 

It was Spike, after all. That’s the way he was.

 

Except that he didn’t show up the next night, or the night after that. On the third day, Buffy’s worry finally got the best of her pride, and she went looking for him at his crypt. There was no sign of him, but she found indications of a struggle that worried her. Most of his things were gone, and she wasn’t sure if that meant he’d left town, or if he’d had to leave suddenly.

 

Buffy stood outside his crypt, the crisp January breeze playing with her hair. What was she supposed to do now?

 

After a moment’s thought, Buffy decided that the only person who might understand would be Tara. Even though she knew that Willow and Xander could be helpful, they hadn’t been very supportive about her relationship with Spike. She was afraid that they would start going on about how unreliable Spike was, and no wonder she couldn’t find him.

 

Buffy couldn’t bear to hear it.

 

“Hey, Tara,” she said, when the other girl opened her apartment door. “I’m sorry to come over without calling, but I can’t find Spike.”

 

Tara frowned. “You can’t find him? How long has it been since you saw him?”

 

“Three nights ago,” Buffy quickly replied. “We met for patrol, but he was silent, and really moody. I thought maybe he’d gotten into a fight, because he was looking a little beat up, but when I asked him about it, he just took off. I thought he’d be back once he got it out of his system, but he hasn’t shown up, and he’s not at his crypt. In fact, his crypt is completely trashed and most of his things are gone. I didn’t know what to do, so I thought I’d come see you, but—”

 

“Buffy, slow down,” Tara advised, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Did you check his new place?”

 

“What new place?” Buffy asked.

 

“His new apartment,” she replied. “He didn’t tell you?”

 

Buffy had to blink back sudden tears. “Spike moved, and he didn’t tell me? Did he not want me to know?”

 

“No!” Tara assured her. “He moved for you. I think he wanted it to be a surprise, so you’d have some place to go that wasn’t your house and wasn’t a cemetery. Plus, I think he believed you’d feel better about Dawn visiting him there.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “Then where is he, Tara? Surely he’d let me know if he was in some kind of trouble, right? I mean…” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, who am I kidding? He’d probably want to figure it out on his own, and is neck deep in trouble. Maybe if we go check the new place, we’ll figure it out. Do you mind?”

 

“Not at all,” Tara replied. “I’m a little worried now, too.”

 

~~~~~

 

Spike was neck deep, all right, but it was mostly in sewage. He’d managed to escape from the demon horde by the skin of his teeth, barricading himself in his old crypt and then escaping into the tunnels below. Although the subterranean parts of Sunnydale were well traveled, Spike was pretty sure that no one knew the tunnels as well as he did, and he’d used that to his advantage.

 

If he’d been able to make it to his new digs without being spotted, Spike could have hidden out there quite nicely. Every time he came up above ground, however, someone spotted him, and he had to turn tail and run. He couldn’t get to the Slayer to tell her what was going on, and his cell phone had been broken during one of the fights.

 

In essence, he was completely buggered.

 

Spike felt like a rat in a maze. He couldn’t emerge from his hiding spots in the sewers without risking a fight and a dusting, he couldn’t call Buffy, and he didn’t even know if she cared enough to come looking for him. It had been days since he’d had anything to eat, and he was starving.

 

He hadn’t been in this much trouble since Prague, and in a way, this was worse. Spike couldn’t pass for human, not when he was flammable, and so there were no crowds he could disappear into. If he could get to Buffy, if she cared enough to help him, Spike knew he stood a chance, but those were both big ifs.

 

He was hungry, tired, and filthy, and it didn’t look like his unlife was going to get better anytime soon. The only other option was to make a dash for it, try to steal a car or other means of transportation, and get out of town.

 

But that would mean leaving Buffy, and that wasn’t something Spike was quite prepared to do.

 

~~~~~

 

Willow had waited for three days. She had expected Buffy to come to her as soon as the Slayer realized her pet vampire was missing. Willow had practiced her concerned-friend speech in her head a dozen times. She would commiserate, and offer to find Spike with a locator spell, which would then fail. Willow would have to tell Buffy that Spike was either dead or had left town, and then she would comfort her.

 

It was supposed to have been the perfect plan.

 

Even if Spike remembered what she’d cursed him with, there was no way he could tell Buffy. Buffy wouldn’t hear anything that came out of his mouth, and Spike would only hear what he most feared to hear. It was a perfect curse, and Willow was certain that no one would ever find out.

 

As an extra measure of protection, she’d asked around and found a way to put a contract out on Spike. It had been easy to create the illusion that she had lots of money. The cash would even stand up to close scrutiny, at least until they tried to spend it. Willow wasn’t too worried about that, however, because they were just demons. They couldn’t go to the cops and turn her in for counterfeiting, just like there was no way she could get into trouble for taking out a contract on Spike.

 

Willow really didn’t care whether the demons succeeded in killing him because if Spike wanted to live, he’d leave town.

 

And Buffy would come back to her friends, where she belonged. Willow only had the Slayer’s best interests in mind. Getting involved with another vampire was a very bad idea.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy didn’t have to break into Spike’s apartment. Tara had a spare key that Spike had given her, just in case he’d lost his. “I’m sure it was just until he told you about moving,” Tara said when she caught a glimpse of Buffy’s expression. “He really did this for you, Buffy.”

 

As soon as she walked inside, she could tell that he had. It wasn’t that the place was all that nice. The furniture was all second-hand and threadbare, maybe a little ratty. Spike had moved his bed, though, and it sat on top of the rugs he’d put down in the lower level of his crypt. He’d sworn that they weren’t stolen, but that he’d got them cheap from a demon who had gotten the wrong shipment.

 

There were a few posters on the wall, and when Buffy peeked inside the fridge, there was beer and blood as well as bottled water and juice. What she didn’t understand was why Spike had disappeared so suddenly when he’d obviously had plans to stick around.

 

“Buffy!” Tara called urgently, bending over to look at something on the floor.

 

Buffy hurried over to her friend’s side, peering down to see what she was looking at. “What’s that?” She dipped her fingers into the powder on the floor, rubbing it against her thumb to get a sense of the texture.

 

“It’s salt, the sort we use for binding circles.”

 

Buffy frowned. “Spike doesn’t like magic.”

 

“I know.”

 

They looked at each other. “What are you thinking?” Buffy asked, a note of dread in her voice.

 

“I don’t know,” Tara replied. “If Spike didn’t put this here, then someone else did.” She frowned, thinking hard. “You said it’s been three days since you saw him?” When Buffy nodded, Tara went into the small kitchen, glancing into the sink. The mugs she and Spike had used were still there. “I think the last time Spike was here was when I was. It was still afternoon when I left.”

 

“He was late meeting me, and his face was bruised,” Buffy said, a light beginning to dawn. “You think someone came here, after you left, and attacked him. Do you think that’s why he was acting so strangely?”

 

“I don’t know, but it’s probably the best theory we have.” She shook her head. “Why don’t you stay here? I’ll go back to my place and get what I need for a locator spell. Maybe if we find Spike, we can figure out what’s going on.”

 

Buffy cast a doubtful look at the fading light coming through the small window, set high on one wall. “Are you sure you want me to stay? It’s going to be dark soon.”

 

“I’ll be fine,” Tara said. “I’m pretty good at taking care of myself these days.”

 

Buffy let her go, glancing around the apartment. Spike hadn’t been there long enough for the place to smell like him yet, and Buffy found herself missing his scent. Missing him. She wanted him so badly right then, with a longing that took her breath away.

 

She loved him.

 

The thought hit her out of the blue, the kind of epiphany that can stagger a person with its force. The sort of thing that turns your world upside down in the space of a moment.

 

Buffy didn’t kid herself. She didn’t love him like Spike loved her. The possibility was there, and she cared for him deeply enough that the thought of losing him scared her nearly to death. Buffy somehow thought that Spike’s love was a different sort.

 

But she was getting there. He might end up teaching her how to love like that—so fiercely that you could accept everything about the other person, even their faults, and love them anyway. Drusilla had said that vampires didn’t love wisely, but that they loved well.

 

Maybe that should be Buffy’s motto from here on out. Even if Spike wasn’t the wisest choice of boyfriends, she could love him well. She could embrace his darkness and tug him back into their own kind of twilight. This apartment was proof that Spike could change. Well, Buffy could change, too. She’d show him.

 

But first she had to find him.

 

A clumsily wrapped package, sitting on a makeshift bookshelf caught her eye. Buffy walked over, picking it up and shaking the box, hearing the sound of metal hissing across cardboard. It was jewelry, and unless she was greatly mistaken, it was her birthday gift.

 

Buffy knew that she shouldn’t open it, but her birthday was only a couple of days away, and there was no telling whether or not they’d find Spike by then. Besides, she was insanely curious.

 

Feeling a little guilty, and ruthlessly squashing the little voice that told her she shouldn’t be doing this, Buffy pulled off the paper, smiling when she opened the box and pulled out the necklace. An oddly shaped pendant hung from a gold chain. She cupped her hand around the pendant, trying to make out the details, but it was worn with age.

 

Buffy wondered if perhaps this wasn’t from the treasure Spike had fenced. Apparently he’d kept a piece for her, and she couldn’t resist trying it on. The chain was long, so that the pendant hung between her breasts, and she tucked it into her shirt. When she found Spike, she could apologize for snooping, but until then she’d wear it to keep him close.


	13. Finding You

**“…I’ve been thinking everyday about you/Don’t fit anywhere into my life, but that’s okay/ ‘Cause I think I might be right for you/And because of that, I’m not scared at all/And everyone says I’m crazy/And everyone says I’m a fool/Would you meet me by the water tonight/‘Cause I’m ready to break all the rules/Please don’t leave me standing/With my heart in my hand/I can’t last here/I’m breaking down/And no one understands why I got here…” Rachael Yamagata, “Meet Me By the Water”**

 

Anya cleaned the glass on the front counter methodically. She wanted to get married, but she nursed a growing fear that Xander didn’t anymore. It wasn’t anything he said. Instead, it was the way he seemed to spend time with anyone who wasn’t her, his unenthusiastic responses to the wedding plans, his near-continuous distraction.

 

What if he left her? What if Xander didn’t want to marry her? What if this whole thing had been one gigantic mistake? She’d seen enough situations like this to know that it never ended well.

 

The door over the bell rang, and Xander walked inside. “Hey, An.”

 

“Hi.”

 

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. Anya remembered how easy it had been when they didn’t have their memories. Thinking she was Giles’ fiancée had been simple if only because there had been no fear. At least, not about their relationship. They had yelled at each other, and Giles had conjured up a whole mess of rabbits—well, that had been her fault—but it had been nice in an odd sort of way.

 

She loved Xander, but right now she was terrified that he was going to break her heart.

 

“I think we need to talk,” Xander stated, his dark eyes troubled.

 

Anya took a deep breath, bracing herself. “What about?”

 

“It’s about the wedding. I think we need to call it off.”

 

She grabbed the counter with both hands. “Call off our wedding? You don’t want to marry me?”

 

“Not right now,” Xander replied. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

“You don’t want to hurt me?” Anya repeated incredulously. “What do you call this?”

 

Xander winced. This wasn’t going the way he’d expected it to. “I love you, Anya, but I think we’re rushing into things. Maybe we could just take some time to be engaged first.”

 

“What? Why would we need time, Xander?” Anya demanded. “We’ve been dating two years! Is this your way of telling me you don’t want to be with me? Or was I supposed to figure that out when it took you months to tell your friends that we’re engaged?”

 

Xander frowned. “That’s not the way it is. Buffy—”

 

“I don’t care about Buffy! It’s always about Buffy, isn’t it? She’s always going to come first. If we get married, that’s the way it’s always going to be. You’ll be rushing off to save Buffy, and you won’t even think about your wife.”

 

“That’s not what this is,” he protested. “I just think this is moving too fast. We could slow down a little bit.”

 

“So you can what?” Anya threw her towel down on the counter. “So you can wonder what you’re doing with an ex-demon? Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you talk about Spike. You and Willow are always talking about how horrible he is because he’s vampire. Does that apply to a former vengeance demon?”

 

“Anya, you know that’s not how I feel about you! I’m not ready to get married.”

 

“Well, either get ready or break up with me,” Anya challenged him. “Because I’m not waiting around forever.”

 

Her heart was breaking. Xander really didn’t want her. Anya didn’t know what he wanted, but it obviously wasn’t her. He was calling off their wedding because he didn’t want to be with her. She wished it were just a bad dream; that way, she could wake up next to him, secure in the knowledge that he loved her, and make him chase her nightmare away.

 

Anya didn’t wake up, though, and Xander’s next words destroyed whatever hope she had that it would all go away, that he just had a case of cold feet. The magazines she’d read had said that ultimatums were bad, but Anya needed to know. She had to know if he wanted this wedding as much as she did.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and then he left, the bell jingling again as she burst into tears.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike heard the footsteps before he saw anyone. He grasped his broken bottle tightly—he’d lost his stake in the second fight, so it was the only weapon he had. His nose wasn’t much good here, not when the smell of rot and decay filled his nostrils until nothing else could get through.

 

“Okay, now this is gross,” Buffy stated. “Why did you have to come here?”

 

Her voice wasn’t much of a reassurance, nor was the disgusted look on her face when she got close enough for him to see her. “I know you’re not real happy with me right now—” Spike began, thinking that he could get his apology out of the way immediately.

 

“Why would I be happy with you?” she asked. “My boots are completely ruined, wading around in this muck. Not to mention the fact that you moved without even letting me know. Are you really that interested in getting rid of me?”

 

“No,” he shot back. “Although I thought you were pretty hell-bent on it.”

 

“On what?” Buffy asked, bewildered.

 

“Getting rid of me.”

 

“I don’t want to get rid of you.” She glared at him. “I told you that you made me happy.”

 

Spike sneered. “And right after that you told me I was nothing but your sex toy.”

 

“I did no such thing!”

 

“You did, too!”

 

“When?”

 

Spike stayed stubbornly silent, and Buffy answered her own question. “Let me guess. That last night we saw each other, right before you ran off into the night.”

 

“I didn’t run,” he replied. “I took off after you started acting like an uptight bitch.”

 

“If you didn’t look like shit, I would so slap you right now,” she warned him. “I didn’t say anything to you, not like that. You were silent, and then you ran off when I asked you what was wrong.”

 

“No, I tried to tell you that Willow tried something on me, and you said you didn’t want me around.”

 

“Willow?” Buffy asked, her voice very quiet. “She did magic at your new place?”

 

“Yeah,” Spike replied warily. He was now officially completely confused. This was the Buffy he’d been spending his time with, not the girl who had treated him so cruelly the other night.

 

They both realized what that meant at the same time. “Bloody hell,” Spike muttered. “She did something to me. She—”

 

“She did some kind of spell,” Buffy said. “But why isn’t it working now? Did it just stop? And why are you hiding in the sewers?”

 

Spike leaned up against the wall, relaxing a bit. “To answer your last question, someone put a contract out on my unlife. Every time I go anywhere but the worst part of the tunnels, I have demons coming after me, usually in packs. Escaped one such mob without much room to spare.”

 

Buffy shook her head. There was something about this that didn’t make sense. It was too much of a coincidence that Spike would get cursed one day, and then wind up getting chased down by a bunch of demons. While the evidence might all be circumstantial, it was pointing back at Willow.

 

“You need to get out of here,” she stated. “My place will be safe enough for right now, until we figure out what’s going on.”

 

“What more needs figuring?” Spike demanded. “Your little friend did something to me.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “Don’t. You know I didn’t have anything to do with this, so don’t take your issues out on me.”

 

“Then don’t cover it up.”

 

“Who threw Willow out of her house?” Buffy asked angrily. “She won’t get away with it, if she is responsible for this. I can promise you that. Right now, though, you look like you need a shower and something to eat.”

 

“Not necessarily in that order,” Spike said.

 

She gave him an incredulous look. “Are you kidding me? You’re not sitting around in my house like that. Come on, let’s go.”

 

Spike followed her, knowing that staying close to her was presently his best bet for staying alive, even if that idea annoyed him. He hated thinking that he’d gotten in over his head. Just once, he’d like to come out on top.

 

“You know, if you’d drop that bottle, I might be tempted to hold your hand.”

 

“It’s the only weapon I’ve got right now.”

 

“Who was it that told me a vampire always has his weapon?” Buffy asked. “Besides, you’ve got me.”

 

Spike dropped the bottle.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy set the cooling mug down on her nightstand, turning down the sheets. This wasn’t the first time Spike had spent the night, but it was the first time he’d been there when she’d felt _this_ way. Like she knew she didn’t want to live without him.

 

Not that she _couldn’t_ live without him, mind you. Just that it would really suck.

 

Spike stepped out of the bathroom, steam following him in a cloud, a towel draped around his waist. “You were in there a while,” Buffy teased. “I was beginning to think that you’d drowned.”

 

His expression didn’t change, and he didn’t speak. Buffy frowned, wondering what exactly was going on. “I brought your blood up here. I thought we both could probably use some sleep.”

 

Spike’s hand tightened on the towel, and they stared at each other for a moment. Then, he whirled, heading for the bedroom door. Buffy got in between Spike and the exit, and stopped him by grabbing his arm. This time, she kept quiet, going over to the nightstand and pulling a pad of paper and a pen out of the drawer. She quickly scrawled, “What did you just hear me say?”

 

Spike stared at her, wariness in every line of his body. Buffy thrust the paper and pen at him, watching as he read her note and then scribbled his own. “You said you didn’t want a thing like me in your bedroom.”

 

“I didn’t say that,” she wrote back.

 

Buffy didn’t dare curse. She wanted to, but she was too afraid that Spike would hear something completely different. Buffy wracked her brain, trying to figure out what had changed in the last hour or two. Not that long ago, they were having a perfectly nice conversation, and everything had seemed okay. Now, Spike looked ready to run again, and Buffy didn’t know what to do because he wasn’t talking to her.

 

She’d never realized how much she liked to hear him talk. Buffy missed his voice.

 

Looking around the room, she tried to figure out what had happened earlier to open up the lines of communication again. Buffy spotted the necklace sitting on her dresser, and she quickly rose to put it back on again, keeping her back to Spike so he wouldn’t see what she was doing.

 

“Let me guess,” Buffy said. “Now you can hear me.”

 

“I could hear you just fine a minute ago, pet. It was the words that were bugging me, not the silence. What changed?”

 

“This,” she admitted, pulling the pendant away from her chest so he could see it. “Tara and I were worried, so we checked out your new place. I found the box, and I figured it was probably for my birthday.”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Your birthday isn’t for a couple more days.”

 

“I didn’t know when we would find you.” Buffy shrugged. “Besides, it looks like this is helping, so I’m thinking snooping was a good idea.”

 

He wasn’t convinced you could generalize a rule that snooping was good from scanty evidence indicating that it had been beneficial in this case. “So when you wear that, you can hear me, and I can understand what you’re really saying. Is that it?”

 

“Maybe it prevents someone from being influenced by magic,” Buffy suggested thoughtfully. “That would explain it. My words don’t get twisted, and I can hear you.” She took it off and handed it to him, wondering if it would work the other way around.

 

Spike raised an eyebrow, knowing what she was suggesting, and he put it on. It didn’t take but a minute to figure out that it only worked one way.

 

“Darn,” Buffy said, as she put it back on. “I guess that means that it won’t actually disrupt the curse itself.”

 

“It’s probably meant to allow a person to see through illusions. I’ve heard of that sort of thing existing before, but I’ve never run across anything like it.” Spike gave her a sour look. “Which would seem to indicate that magic is involved, and I only know one person who might be responsible.”

 

Buffy sighed. “Drink your blood, Spike. And, yes, Willow looks like the likeliest suspect. I’ll call Tara tomorrow, and we’ll see what we can do to clear this up.”

 

He downed the blood obediently, although his acquiescence had more to do with Buffy’s obvious concern than anything else. Buffy had cared enough to break into his apartment and come looking for him, to go through the worst part of the sewers and heat up his meal. Spike found the whole experience rather novel, and incredibly reassuring.

 

Spike put the mug down and glanced at her. “Buffy?”

 

“What?” she asked. She’d already slipped in between the covers, and she was obviously waiting for him to join her.

 

“You really meant it?”

 

“Meant what?” Buffy was trying not to get too impatient with him. Spike had had a couple of very trying days, after all.

 

“That I make you happy.”

 

She sighed. “Let me put it this way. The idea of you not being around scared me. A lot.”

 

Spike dropped his towel on the floor and climbed in the bed next to her, his hand tracing the curve of her breast. “That right?”

 

Buffy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Spike had to be exhausted, but vampire stamina was something else, that was for sure. “I missed you,” she admitted softly, tracing his cheek with her hand. “I was worried about you.”

 

A smile touched his lips. “Yeah? You do know I wouldn’t have given up, right? If those sodding bastards hadn’t come after me, I’d have pestered you ‘til you let me in again.”

 

She drew his head down, kissing him, her touch lingering, gentle. Buffy wanted to tell him about her epiphany, about what the thought of losing him did to her stomach, but she couldn’t. Not yet, anyway. Actions would have to do.

 

Spike rolled so that she lay sprawled half on top of him, and buried his hands in her hair. Buffy’s hands were busy tracing the lines of his face, stroking his shoulders, his arms. “I know,” she finally said, when she came up for air. “You’re not the guy that gives up.” A teasing glint entered her eyes. “You’re like one of those terriers that doesn’t know when to let go.”

 

“Hey!” he protested. “You calling me a dog?”

 

“What if I am?”

 

Spike flipped them so that he was on top, his hands capturing hers and holding them still. “I might have to do something about that, then.”

 

“And what would that be?”

 

Spike held her wrists with one hand, his other beginning to touch and tease. “Tit for tat, luv. You tease me, and I tease you.”

 

Buffy didn’t mind a bit.

 

~~~~~

 

Dawn knew she was risking an eye-full by sticking her head through Buffy’s door the next morning, but she didn’t care. Her sister had promised to bring Spike home, and Dawn wanted to see if she’d managed it.

 

Relief hit her like a tidal wave as she saw Spike’s familiar head poking out from under the sheets, obviously nestled close to Buffy.

 

Buffy had acted like she wasn’t concerned when Spike hadn’t come back to the house with her to watch a movie. She had told Dawn that Spike was in a bad mood and had walked off in a snit, but the younger Summers wasn’t sure she bought it. Even if it were true that Spike hadn’t been in the best of moods, he had promised Dawn that he would be there, and Spike never broke his promises. Or if he did, there was a very good reason for it.

 

When he didn’t show up the next night, or the next, Dawn was even more certain that something bad had happened, and Buffy had finally decided to do something about it. She wished it hadn’t taken Buffy so long to figure things out, but her sister was as stubborn as Spike was.

 

It looked like everything was going to be okay now, though. Spike was back, and in Buffy’s bed. If they had been fighting, they had apparently made up.

 

Dawn found a note from Buffy on the kitchen counter. “Dawn, please pull Spike’s clothes out of the dryer. He’ll need something to wear today. Also, whatever you do, don’t say anything to him. Something funny is going on. If you want to talk to him, you’re going to have to write it out.”

 

She frowned. That was just weird, even for Sunnydale. With a sigh, Dawn went downstairs and grabbed Spike’s black jeans and t-shirt as she’d been asked. Even though she usually couldn’t tell one black t-shirt from another, the clothing looked more worn than it typically did. There were a couple of holes in the t-shirt, plus a large rip in one knee of the jeans, and they both looked stained. Dawn wasn’t sure what could stain black fabric, and was pretty sure she didn’t want to know.

 

Having folded them neatly, she went back upstairs and put them right outside of Buffy’s door, just as her sister was opening it. “Oh, thanks, Dawn. I was just going to grab those.”

 

“Is Spike still sleeping?”

 

“Like the dead,” Buffy said, although her pun fell rather flat. “I just wanted to put them in the room where he could spot them when he woke up.”

 

“What’s going on?” Dawn asked in a whisper. “Why did he disappear? And where did you find him? _How_ did you find him?”

 

Buffy shook her head. “Just a second,” she cautioned, putting the clothing inside the room and then stepping back out into the hallway. “Let’s go downstairs.”

 

Once Buffy had gone to the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee, she felt a little more ready to tell the story. She told Dawn about going to Spike’s new place, then about Tara doing the locator spell and her search of the sewers. “Once I found him, I convinced him to come home,” Buffy explained.

 

“What about the demon hit-men?” Dawn asked avidly. “Did they find you?”

 

Buffy shrugged. “We ran into a few. I killed a couple and then I let the other two go.”

 

“Why?” Dawn demanded. “They’ll just come back again!”

 

“No, they won’t.” Buffy wore a very self-satisfied grin. “I made sure they knew that if anyone laid a finger on Spike in the future, they’d have to answer to me.”

 

“That’s not going to solve the problem,” Dawn pointed out. “You’re going to have to figure out who set the whole thing up, and then maybe kill them.”

 

Buffy sighed. “I realize that, Dawnie, but last night was not a good time to try something like that. We still have to figure out what Willow did to Spike.”

 

“So you think that it’s Willow?”

 

“Who else could it be?” Buffy took a sip of her coffee, looking angry and upset. “I don’t know what to do, though. I could yell at her, or threaten to never talk to her again, but I’m not sure that would solve the problem.”

 

“That’s because Willow doesn’t understand what we need from her,” Dawn observed. “She thinks she has to be this bad-ass Wicca, and in reality, we just want Willow.”

 

Buffy nodded. “That’s pretty much it in a nutshell. I just don’t know how to get her to see reason. Until we do get this straightened out, though, no talking to Spike, and no hanging out with Willow.”

 

“You said I could write Spike,” Dawn pouted.

 

“Write all you like,” Buffy replied. “But whatever you say to him, he’s going to hear the worst possible thing.”

 

Dawn pouted. It wasn’t fair. Spike was the guy she liked talking to whenever there was a problem, and now she couldn’t even do that. It was like somebody had built this huge wall between them.

 

It really wasn’t fair.

 

~~~~~

 

Xander couldn’t believe what had happened. All he’d wanted was to put the wedding off for a while; it wouldn’t even have to be for that long a period of time. Instead, he’d taken Anya’s ultimatum and broken off their relationship.

 

What had he done?

 

He loved her. Xander was certain of that much, at least. He just didn’t know that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. What if their marriage came to mirror his parents’? What if he ended up like his father? If he found Anya irritating before the wedding, what would she be like after they were married?

 

Xander needed to talk to somebody. When he’d called Buffy’s house, Dawn had answered the phone and told him that Buffy was out looking for Spike. Willow wasn’t answering her phone at the dorms. There was no one.

 

No one except for the bottle of cheap whiskey.

 

It came to Xander, about halfway through the bottle, that if he wanted to avoid acting like his father, not drinking might be a good place to start. That maybe the best idea would be to pour the rest of the liquor down the drain and go off to find Anya—talk until she understood what he meant, and let her talk until he got a handle on what she wanted, too.

 

He’d discarded the idea in the next moment, since he was already pretty drunk and in no shape to be going anywhere. It was easier to keep drinking, to let the numbness blanket him, to forget the sound of her crying over the closing of the Magic Box door.

 

For tonight, it was easier to give in to the pain.


	14. Listen With Your Heart

“There you go making mountains/Out of such a little hill/Here I go mixing mortar/For another wall to build/There’s a struggle in this life we lead/It’s partly you/It’s partly me (but)/Every road that’s traveled/Teaches something new/And every road that’s narrow/ Pushes us to choose/And I’d be lying if I said/I had not tried to leave a time or two/But every road that leads me/Leads me back to you/Here we stand in the middle/Of what we’ve come to know/It’s a dance, it’s a balance/Holding on and letting go/But there’s nothing that we can’t resolve/When love’s at stake/When love’s involved.” ~Amy Grant, “Every Road”

 

Spike woke in Buffy’s bed, the sheets and blankets still warmed by her body. It wasn’t the first night he’d spent with her, but it was the first time he felt as though she wanted something permanent from him. That this wasn’t just a fling.

 

Buffy had come looking for him, and then she’d announced—to the demon community at least—that he was hers.

 

He wanted her to be his girl, but knowing that she felt enough of a proprietary interest to keep him in one piece was definitely a start.

 

The bedroom door opened, and Buffy walked in, carrying another mug. “You hungry?”

 

“Yeah,” Spike said, taking it from her and draining it quickly. “You’re being considerate today,” he commented. “I’m not used to getting breakfast in bed.”

 

“You’d probably better not get used to it,” she warned, although there was enough humor in her eyes that Spike knew she wasn’t entirely serious.

 

He raised an eyebrow. “Care to tell me what’s going on?”

 

“Other than the fact that I feel bad because you’ve had a rough couple of days?” she asked, toying with her necklace.

 

Spike reached out to get a better look at it. He noticed faded designs etched in the gold, and he ran his thumb over them. It was a bit of luck that he’d picked up this particular necklace for her, and that Buffy’s curiosity had led her to open the box and put it on. He found it strange, since his luck had been anything but good lately.

 

“Other than that,” he finally said. “I’ve had a run of bad days before.”

 

Buffy shrugged, uncomfortable. She couldn’t explain it in words, but it felt wrong that Spike would have “heard” her say such cruel things to him and believed that she actually felt that way. They had come so far in the last few weeks; she had thought that he knew she cared about him enough that she wouldn’t chase him away like that.

 

Buffy had believed that he knew she needed him, and for more than just the sex.

 

“I didn’t like you being gone,” she finally said.

 

Spike knew it wasn’t the whole truth, but he decided to let it slide. As it always was with Buffy, her actions spoke louder than her words, and he thought he was reading between the lines correctly. “Didn’t like being away.”

 

“I called Tara,” Buffy said. “She’s coming over a little later to see if she can’t reverse this whatever it is. I told Dawn that she can write notes to you, but you know Dawn. She’ll probably say something. Until Tara gets this figured out…”

 

“I’ll ignore everything everyone says to me unless they’re wearing that necklace,” Spike promised.

 

“I got your clothes cleaned, too,” Buffy said. “They’re not in very good shape, and your coat is out on the porch. I don’t think that smell is going to come out of the leather any time soon.”

 

Spike groaned. “Bloody hell.”

 

“Sorry. Maybe if you got it dry-cleaned?”

 

“Maybe,” he allowed. “That means I won’t be able to wear it for a few days, though.”

 

“I hate to say it, but you wouldn’t be wearing it inside this house anyway. It stinks really bad.”

 

Spike sighed. “I’d better get up.”

 

“You don’t have to,” Buffy replied. “You can sleep if you want. I’ve got to run a few errands. Dawn’s here, but—”

 

“What about school?”

 

“It’s Saturday,” Buffy reminded him. “They don’t have school on Saturday.”

 

“I knew that,” he defended himself. “Just lost track of what day it was down there.”

 

She ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Okay, I’ll be back in a while. Maybe I should leave the necklace with Dawn? That way you guys could talk.”

 

“Bloody stupid if you ask me,” Spike muttered. “Dependent on a piece of sodding jewelry just to have a conversation.”

 

“We’ll get it figured out,” Buffy promised. “I’ll talk to you later.” She gave him a quick kiss and then left the room.

 

Spike got dressed, moving a little more slowly than he usually did. The blood and kip had helped, but the last couple days had been difficult, to say the least. He was still feeling raw.

 

Dawn was in the kitchen, looking in the fridge when he came downstairs. “Spike! How are you feeling?”

 

Buffy had apparently loaned the necklace out. “Good. Sorry I missed the movie the other night.”

 

“It’s okay,” Dawn replied. “Buffy told me what happened. Sounds like the last few days have sucked.”

 

“To put it mildly,” he agreed.

 

“We could watch a movie today,” Dawn suggested. “Since you missed it the other night.”

 

Spike smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Thanks so much for coming,” Buffy said sincerely. “I feel like I’m taking advantage of you. Every time we run into a problem…”

 

“Don’t worry about it, Buffy,” Tara responded. “I’m happy to help. Spike’s my friend, too.”

 

“I know.” She was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t understand,” Buffy said unhappily. “I know that this is probably Willow’s doing, but I don’t get why she would want to hurt me like this.”

 

“Are you sure it’s because she wants to hurt you?” Tara asked. “Everything Willow does—she seems to have the best of intentions. It’s more that she thinks she knows what’s best, and she doesn’t want anyone else’s opinion.”

 

“That about sums it up,” Buffy admitted. “Still, Spike’s been so helpful. If anyone was going to have a problem with my relationship with him, I would have thought it would be Xander.”

 

Tara shook her head. “Xander feels guilty about the resurrection spell,” she pointed out. “I think he wants to be as supportive as possible. Plus, he’s still busy with Anya and the wedding plans.”

 

“I never thought I’d have to be grateful to Xander and his wedding plans.”

 

Tara chuckled. “Me neither.” She looked pensive. “You didn’t go by the Magic Box today, did you?”

 

“Should I have?”

 

“When I went by, the shop was locked up, and Anya wasn’t anywhere to be seen.”

 

“That’s not good,” Buffy commented. “It’s not like Anya to miss out on a money-making opportunity.”

 

Tara nodded. “I know. I think we ought to check on her as soon as we get this thing with Spike figured out.”

 

“I just hope we can get this fixed,” Buffy said, stifling a sigh. “Don’t get me wrong, the necklace is nice, but we can’t keep passing it around just so Spike can be heard.”

 

Tara couldn’t agree more. “Not to mention how it must make Spike feel. Like he’s invisible.”

 

“How come the demons could hear him?” Buffy asked. “The group we ran into last night had no trouble understanding his insults.”

 

“I would guess that the curse only affects humans,” Tara hazarded. “It’s hard to say without seeing Spike, though.”

 

They had arrived at the house. Buffy’s errands had taken her past Tara’s apartment, and so Buffy had stopped by to see if she wanted company for the walk over. Buffy wanted this mess straightened out, and she wanted to not have to deal with Willow. Of course, if Willow kept throwing curses at Spike—well, Buffy didn’t know what she’d do, but she would have to take action. What if Spike had needed to warn her about something? Or what if someone’s life was in danger and he needed to step in?

 

Or what if Buffy just needed to have a talk with her guy? That was the worst part, she had to admit. Willow had disrupted her communication with one of the few people keeping her grounded. Buffy didn’t care what her motivations might be; Willow didn’t have the right.

 

“Hey, we’re home!” Buffy called, hoping that those words were innocuous enough not to get twisted by the curse.

 

“Hey, Buffy!” Dawn called from the living room. “Spike and I were just watching a movie.” She paused. “He says to say hey.”

 

“Dawn, would you mind giving Tara the necklace so she and Spike can talk?” Buffy asked. She hadn’t heard Spike say anything at all, which was odd in and of itself. When did Spike ever shut up?

 

“Buffy!” Dawn protested. “I haven’t gotten to spend any time with Spike at all! Can’t I just translate?”

 

“So Spike can hear himself being insulted right and left?” Buffy asked, standing firm. “Hand it over.”

 

Dawn looked as though she was going to argue, and then she shot a pouting look at Spike. “Fine.” She gave the necklace to Tara and left the room, flouncing.

 

Tara put the necklace on, smiling ruefully. “I never understood before how a person could flounce,” she commented.

 

“She gets it from her sister,” Spike commented, his eyes twinkling. He’d finally figured out how to use the curse to his advantage. Now that he knew what was going on, and had some inkling of Buffy’s true feelings, it wasn’t bothering him quite so much.

 

Tara had to stifle her snigger, since Buffy would definitely want to know what Spike had said, which would defeat the purpose of him saying it when she couldn’t hear. “Maybe you could tell me what happened, and I’ll see if I can’t fix things.”

 

Before he could respond, Buffy had walked over to the couch, leaning over him and kissing him softly, keeping it long and lingering. If he couldn’t hear what she was really saying, Buffy would just have to say hello another way. She smiled when she pulled back and left to follow her sister to the kitchen, saying nothing the entire time.

 

Spike watched her leave, his eyes hungry.

 

“Spike?” Tara asked, amused. “You want to tell me what happened?”

 

“Not much to tell,” he replied. “You left my place, Red shows up, and the next thing I know I’m waking up on the floor. I was late to meet Buffy, and when I showed up…” Spike trailed off. “I won’t repeat what I heard, but apparently it wasn’t what she said. I left, and then I got jumped by a bunch of demons. Spent the next few days in the sewers. Every time I poked my head up, someone tried to take it off.”

 

Tara frowned. “What’s changed, Spike?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You helped us this summer. You’ve been helping Buffy for a couple of years now. Why would a bunch of demons be after you now?”

 

Spike shrugged. “They said there’s a price on my head.”

 

“Who would put it there?” Tara wondered.

 

“Beats the hell out of me,” Spike admitted. “Can you do anything about the curse, though?”

 

Tara narrowed her eyes at him. His aura was the same as it always was, so the spell wasn’t interfering with his persona. More likely, it was acting like a shield between him and the outer world, twisting others’ words and silencing his own. She finally shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m not seeing anything obvious. I’ll have to do some research and try to figure out what exactly she did. Until then, I think you’re just going to have to live with it.”

 

She did not tell him that if Willow really was the one behind the spell, Tara wasn’t at all sure she could remove it. Willow was incredibly strong, and depending on how she’d set the curse, Willow might be the only person who could lift it.

 

Something in her eyes must have given evidence of her doubts, though, because Spike’s lips twisted in a rueful smile. “You don’t know if you can lift it.”

 

“I can’t make any guarantees,” Tara hedged.

 

Spike shrugged. “Then you’ll do the best you can. That’s all any of us can do, yeah?”

 

They were reassuring words, but Tara could see the anger in his eyes. She could understand his feelings. After all, she’d been rendered voiceless before, too.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy hated this. She really, really hated this whole thing. After Tara and Spike had finished their conversation, Tara had given the necklace back to Buffy. Spike had immediately begun looking for cigarettes, but the pack in his duster had been soaked through and ruined.

 

When Tara mentioned supplies for the ritual to check Spike out for the curse, since she said it wasn’t something obvious, Buffy had offered to go with her to check the Magic Box. She had then passed the necklace off to Dawn, with strict instructions that Dawn was not to leave the house. Buffy would have tried giving Spike the same instructions, but he’d gone upstairs, probably to try and get a few more hours of sleep.

 

Buffy knew that he was unhappy. Hell, she was unhappy. This whole thing was making her blood boil. Everything had been going so well between them. She finally was beginning to feel that she could keep her head above water. With the pressure of paying bills removed, at least for the time being, she could get the breathing room she hadn’t had since being resurrected.

 

No, since her mother’s death. Spike’s presence, his help with the finances, all of it—Buffy was finally feeling that being alive might be okay.

 

Willow, if she was really the one behind this, was trying to take all that away, just because Spike wasn’t the guy she would choose for the Slayer.

 

“It’s still locked,” Tara said unhappily when they reached the Magic Box, pulling Buffy out of her thoughts. “I wonder what’s going on.”

 

“Let’s go around back,” Buffy suggested. “I think it’ll be easier to break in.”

 

Tara followed the Slayer to the back of the shop, and Buffy easily forced her way in with Slayer-strength. Both girls picked their way through the dimly lit training room, and entered the shop. Anya was nowhere to be seen, and Buffy grimaced. “I don’t get it, Tara. If Anya disappeared, shouldn’t Xander have called us by now?”

 

Buffy rushed over to the phone, quickly dialing Xander’s number. After the tenth ring, when he didn’t pick up, she replaced the handset, looking over at Tara. “No one’s answering.”

 

Tara looked around the shop. “What do you think happened?”

 

“I don’t know. We could go over there.”

 

The front door rattled, and Anya entered. She looked tired, and her eyes were rimmed in red. When she finally looked up, she frowned when she saw Buffy and Tara. “What are you doing here?”

 

“We saw that the shop was closed, and we were worried about you,” Tara replied gently. “Do you know where Xander is?”

 

“How should I know?” Anya demanded. “It’s not like we’re even together anymore.”

 

Tara, ever the comforter, rushed forward to put her arm around the other woman’s shoulders. “Did you guys have a fight?”

 

“He wanted to cancel the wedding!” Anya burst out.

 

Buffy hid a wince. She had wanted Xander to think about what he was getting himself into, not break Anya’s heart. Buffy might not always like Anya, but she didn’t want to see the other woman hurt either.

 

And Buffy knew all too well what it felt like to get your heart trampled on.

 

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” Tara said helplessly, not certain of anything of the sort. “We’ll talk to him, and we’ll get this all sorted out. What happened exactly?”

 

“He came in and said he wanted to cancel the wedding, and I told him that I didn’t want to wait around forever. And then we broke up!” Anya was crying in earnest now.

 

Tara patted her shoulder, giving Buffy a look that suggested that Buffy ought to be helping her. “Maybe it’s just a misunderstanding. I’m sure he still loves you.”

 

“Xander probably has cold feet,” Buffy offered. “Once we talk to him, he’ll be fine.”

 

“I don’t want to talk to him right now,” Anya declared. “What am I supposed to do? If he doesn’t want to marry me, what does he want?”

 

“Xander probably doesn’t even know that,” Buffy replied, trying to lighten the moment.

 

Anya didn’t appear to be comforted by that statement. She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Well, he’d better figure it out. I’m not going to wait around forever, and if he decides he wants to be with me, there’s going to be groveling.”

 

“That makes perfect sense,” Buffy replied.

 

Tara patted her back. “Are you sure you don’t want us to talk to Xander for you?”

 

“No,” Anya replied. “Let him figure things out for himself.”

 

Buffy made a mental note to see Xander when she had a moment. She had the sinking feeling that her friend was probably just as upset by this mess as Anya was.

 

“So were you two here to take things without paying for them, too?” Anya asked.

 

Buffy frowned. “No, and what do you mean ‘too?’”

 

“Willow’s always in here, taking things to do spells. She says it’s for Buffy, but some of the stuff she takes…” Anya trailed off, seeing the significant looks that Tara and Buffy were giving each other. “Did Willow do something?”

 

“Someone put a curse on Spike,” Buffy replied. “We don’t know if it’s Willow or not.”

 

“What did Willow purchase over the last week or two?” Tara asked urgently. “If I know, I might be able to find a way to reverse the spell a little more easily.”

 

Anya stood, suddenly all business. It felt good to have something other than the breakup to concentrate on. “I kept a list with all the prices for Giles,” she said briskly. “I thought he’d want to know how much Willow is spending for him when he checks the books. The last thing I want is for him to think I’ve been careless with the merchandise.”

 

“I doubt he would ever think that,” Tara said reassuringly.

 

Anya didn’t reply, rifling through the receipt slips she kept in a box under the counter. “Here’s Willow’s list.”

 

Buffy took it, glancing over the ingredients, her eyebrows going up as she saw the total at the bottom. “That much?”

 

Tara took the list from her hands, her eyebrows drawing together when she saw the items most recently purchased. “This isn’t good.”

 

“What’s not good?”

 

“This stuff—” Tara gestured at the bottom of the list, pointing out two words Buffy couldn’t even guess on how to pronounce. “It’s only used in the strongest black magic. I don’t know if I can combat that.”

 

Anya’s eyes narrowed in concentration. “I think I might be able to help.”


	15. Letting Go

**“This doubt is screaming in my face/In this familiar place,/Sheltered and concealed/And if this night won’t let me rest/Don’t let me second guess/What I know to be real/Put away all that I know for tonight/And maybe I just might/Learn to let it go/Take my security from me/And maybe finally I won’t have to know everything./I am falling into grace/To the unknown/To where you are/And faith makes everybody scared/It’s the unknown, the don’t-know/That keeps me hanging on to you…” Lifehouse, “Unknown”**

 

Anya had to go to the restricted section for the book she wanted. Tara and Buffy both eyed the dusty tome askance. “I don’t think we need dark magic, Anya.”

 

“This isn’t dark magic,” Anya replied, sounding a little irritated by their challenge of her expertise. “This is a book that’s better not left out where anyone can get it. There is a difference.”

 

Tara took the book from her, running her hands over the embossed lettering on the cover. “I don’t understand Latin.”

 

“We might have to call Giles for that,” Anya admitted. “But I’ve seen this counter spell work. It’s not always successful, but we’ve got a shot anyway.”

 

Buffy stared at the book in curiosity. “What kind of a ritual is it?”

 

“A difficult one,” Anya replied. “It requires someone who has never practiced black magic or spilled innocent blood to break the curse.”

 

Tara winced. “I can’t do that ritual. The resurrection spell…”

 

Anya gave Buffy a sharp look. “You don’t have to be a powerful witch to cast the spell. You just have to love the person you’re trying to save.”

 

Buffy was silent, not knowing quite what to say to that. “How did you know about this?”

 

“Oh, a few people tried it with the men I cursed as a vengeance demon,” Anya said blithely.

 

“Did it work?” Tara asked.

 

Anya shrugged. “Once. You’d be surprised at how many people don’t trust the people they love.”

 

“What does that have to do with the ritual?” Buffy asked.

 

“The person involved has to make a gesture of trust,” Anya replied. “A big one. It varies with the people involved. I think the time that it did work, it required the woman to tell the man that she was about ten years older than he thought she was. She’d been afraid that he wouldn’t love her anymore if he knew.”

 

“What happened?” Tara asked.

 

Anya sighed, her eyes dark with memories. “She reversed the curse, he left her, and she killed herself. It wasn’t pleasant. Of course, the woman’s sister called me to get vengeance on him, so I made sure the second curse stuck.”

 

Buffy was staring at the book, deep in thought. “Anya, would you call Giles and tell him what’s going on? See if he can translate the spell. Since this isn’t a sure thing, we need to have some kind of a backup plan.”

 

“What about asking Willow to do it?” Anya asked. “That’s the surest way to have a curse removed that I know of.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “I can’t. I’m too angry with her right now. I’ll probably end up saying something that I’ll regret, and make things worse.”

 

“Why don’t I ask her?” Tara asked. “She might listen to me.”

 

Buffy frowned. “You don’t have to do that, Tara.”

 

“I probably have the best chance of anybody,” Tara pointed out reasonably. “Besides, like I said, Spike is my friend. I’d like to try. Maybe Willow will see reason.”

 

Buffy nodded slowly. “Okay, but be careful. This thing—we don’t know what she’s thinking.”

 

Anya raised her eyebrows. “Isn’t that obvious? Willow’s thinking what she always thinks: that she knows best.”

 

~~~~~

 

Spike lay in Buffy’s bed, staring at the ceiling. He was still trying to figure out what the hell had happened to his plans. Not that they didn’t get all shot to hell on a regular basis, but this time things had been going so well. Buffy was coming around, his relationship with Dawn was good, he had a new place, and he’d managed to successfully solve Buffy’s money problems.

 

It only made sense that something or someone would come along and cock everything up.

 

He felt like a complete git for needing to be rescued. Sure, Buffy was the Slayer, but she had enough on her plate to worry about. He’d been trying to minimize her problems, not create new ones for her to solve. Instead, he’d ended up right in the middle of a mess again, and right before her birthday, too.

 

Spike couldn’t go after Willow because of the chip, and he couldn’t fight the entire demon population of Sunnydale, much as he might like to. He couldn’t remove the curse by himself. In short, he was stuck, dependent on Buffy to clean this mess up.

 

On the other hand, maybe that was the way it should be, since it was her friend that had caused the trouble in the first place.

 

“Spike?”

 

He hadn’t even noticed Dawn’s soft knock, and he turned his head to look at her, standing in the doorway, eyeing him with concern. “Are you okay?”

 

“Fine, Bit.”

 

Once Dawn saw that Spike was awake and dressed, she entered the room. “Are you sure?”

 

“I’m sure,” he replied, modulating his tone. It wouldn’t do to upset the girl. It certainly wasn’t Dawn’s fault that he’d had a rough few days.

 

She watched him carefully. “Would you help me with my homework?”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “It’s Saturday, Nibblet. I thought you didn’t do homework on Saturdays.”

 

“Well, it has to be done,” she replied. “Plus, it’s Spanish. I figured you could help me with that, and since you’re here…”

 

“And can’t go anywhere else?” Spike asked, a bitter note in his voice that he couldn’t hide.

 

Dawn sat next to him on the bed. “It sucks, doesn’t it? Not being able to save yourself, I mean.”

 

Startled, Spike met her eyes. “Dawn—”

 

“I get that, you know,” she said. “I mean, I know how much Buffy hates having to get me out of trouble all the time, but it never feels like I have a choice.”

 

“No, it doesn’t,” he agreed.

 

“It would be nice to be the strong one for once, so Buffy didn’t have to worry about me,” Dawn commented.

 

Spike sighed. “Yeah, it would at that.”

 

“So will you help me with my Spanish homework?”

 

“Yeah, pet. Let’s take a look at it.”

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy stopped by Xander’s place on her way back to her own house. She wanted to check on him and make sure he was okay before she did anything else. There was no answer to her knock, and she frowned. It was Saturday, and while Xander did occasionally have to work on the weekends, this was a slow time of the year for him.

 

She knocked again, a little louder this time. “Xander! Come on, it’s Buffy. I know what happened.”

 

After a few moments, the door swung open. Buffy watched as Xander immediately retreated from the doorway, not even stopping to ask her to come in. “Are you okay?” she asked, entering and closing the door behind her.

 

“Why? What did Anya tell you?”

 

“She said that you guys broke up.” Buffy paused. “She seemed pretty upset.”

 

Xander looked away from her. “We didn’t break up. At least, I didn’t break up with her. I said I wanted to wait to get married, and she said either we went through with it or we broke up.”

 

“I see.” Buffy watched him, seeing the telltale signs of a drinking binge. It concerned her. “Is this really what you wanted?”

 

“I don’t know!” he burst out. “I love her, Buffy. I just don’t know if I’m ready to get married, and I don’t know if Anya’s the right woman. How do you know? How do you really know if you’re ready?”

 

Buffy was certain that she wasn’t the right person to be asking. “I don’t know, Xan. That’s never been a question I’ve had to answer.”

 

“And you!” he said, going on as if she hadn’t spoken. At this point, Buffy knew he was still drunk. Probably very drunk. “You’re with _Spike_.”

 

Buffy didn’t know how to answer that. She had a feeling that Xander wouldn’t take her explanation very well, not when he was still inebriated. “Yes, I am. But that doesn’t have anything to do with you and Anya.”

 

“How could you do it, Buffy?” Xander demanded. “How could you be with another vampire after what Angel did? That’s where it all changed. That’s when it went bad, and you—”

 

“I’m with Spike because he makes me happy,” Buffy replied firmly, rising to leave. “I feel better about being alive when I’m with him. I’m with him because I think he might be better for being around me, and I think I’m a better person when I’m around him. Maybe that’s what you should think about when you try to figure out if you want to be with Anya.”

 

Xander shook his head. “Why would it be Spike?”

 

Buffy sighed. “I don’t know. I could ask you why it would be Anya.”

 

Xander watched as she left, some of her words sinking into his alcohol-muddled mind. He wanted Buffy to be happy; he just hated that it was Spike that would do it for her. There was still a small part of him that wanted to be that guy for Buffy. Not that he was _in_ love with her, but she was the golden girl. Xander thought he might always wish he could be the guy that got that sort of girl.

 

It was just so much worse that Buffy always seemed to pick vampires. It twisted him up on the inside, and at the same time, Xander just wanted Buffy to be happy that she was back.

 

His eyes closed slowly as he went over the conundrum in his mind again and again. Xander couldn’t see any way out of actually supporting Buffy’s decision, even if it was only with his silence.

 

Thinking about Buffy’s choice of boyfriends was better than thinking about the mess he’d made of his own life.

 

~~~~~

 

Tara was a little nervous about seeing Willow again, especially with all that was happening. She couldn’t understand what had happened to the sweet girl she’d fallen in love with. They had all changed over the last few years, of course, but Willow seemed to have changed most of all.

 

Or perhaps she hadn’t. Maybe this part of Willow had been there the whole time.

 

Buffy was her friend, though, as was Spike. Tara felt like she owed it to both of them to ask Willow to lift the curse she’d placed on the vampire. She just hoped that she could convince Willow that Buffy needed to be able to make her own decisions about who to date.

 

After a split second’s hesitation, Tara knocked on Willow’s door firmly, bracing herself for the coming confrontation.

 

Willow’s pleased surprise upon opening the door appeared genuine, and a smile lit up her face. “Hey, Tara.”

 

“Willow,” Tara responded, her own voice more subdued. “I need to talk to you.”

 

“Of course,” Willow said, stepping out of the doorway. “I’m glad you came by. It’s—it’s been a while.”

 

Tara nodded. “Yeah, it has.” She was quiet, wondering if Willow would guess why she was there. After a few moments, it appeared as though Willow was going to wait for her to start. “I’m here because of Spike, Willow. We know what you did to him.”

 

Willow had never been a very good liar, and her face gave her away before she could hide her reaction. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she bluffed. “What’s wrong with Spike? Do you need me to do a locator spell?”

 

“No!” Tara said vehemently. “We don’t need you doing any more magic, Willow.” Her tone was sharp, sharper than she’d meant it to be. Tara was reaching the end of her patience, though. This was why she had left Willow. It hadn’t been the magic use—it had been Willow’s need to use magic to fix every problem, even when the problem could only be solved with time and care. “You’ve done enough. I want you to lift the curse on Spike.”

 

Willow’s eyes narrowed as she realized that Tara wasn’t going to be bluffed. “I did it for Buffy’s own good.”

 

“You don’t know what Buffy needs,” Tara replied. “If you did, you would have left Spike alone.”

 

Willow’s face twisted in anger. “He’s gotten to you, too, hasn’t he? This is what he does, Tara! Spike gets in the middle of things and turns everybody against each other. He did that when we fought Adam.”

 

“That was two years ago, Willow,” Tara replied. “He’s changed!”

 

“He’s a vampire! He’s turning Buffy away from her friends.”

 

“No, I think you did that all by yourself when you brought Buffy back from the dead.” The words were out of Tara’s mouth before she could stop them. She hadn’t meant to say that. After all, she had been involved with the resurrection spell too.

 

Of course, Buffy was still hanging out with her, maybe because she’d actually apologized for her part in things.

 

Willow stiffened, and then her expression went cold. “I did what I thought was right.”

 

“I know, Willow,” Tara replied, softening her tone. “We all thought it was the right thing to do, but it wasn’t. It hurt Buffy, and she has to live with the consequences. Spike is helping her.”

 

Willow shook her head stubbornly. She just couldn’t believe that she was wrong. She couldn’t deal with the idea that she’d hurt Buffy that badly. Willow couldn’t believe that her judgment had been that far off the mark. If it was—if Tara was right—how could she ever trust herself again?

 

She knew what she was doing.

 

“There’s no lifting the curse,” Willow said, sounding very satisfied with herself. “I made sure of that. You’ll understand that once Spike’s gone. Everyone will be better off. Everything will go back to the way it was.”

 

“Nothing is ever going to be like it was,” Tara said, turning on her heel and walking out. She was fighting back the tears, knowing that this was the end. Willow wasn’t coming back to her—she wasn’t going to get better.

 

And even if she did, Tara was certain that she would never be able to trust her again.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy stood in the kitchen, watching Spike patiently go over Dawn’s homework with her. At least, that’s what she assumed was going on. Dawn was speaking halting Spanish and pausing every so often, only to repeat what she had just said. Buffy figured the pauses were for Spike’s corrections, since Dawn seemed to have less trouble on the repetition.

 

Spike had been right. Relying on a piece of jewelry to be able to communicate was frustrating, to say the least.

 

“Hey,” she said, causing both of them to look up at her.

 

Dawn smiled. “Hey, Buffy. Spike’s helping me with Spanish.” She paused. “And he says hi.”

 

“Are you guys almost done?” Buffy asked. “I’d like to get that necklace back from you.”

 

“Give us a few more minutes?” Dawn asked. “And then Melissa wants me to come over for dinner tonight. That’s okay, isn’t it?”

 

“Are you planning on spending the night?”

 

Dawn smirked. “Do you want me to?”

 

Buffy gave her a dirty look. “Dawn—”

 

“Oh, come on, Buffy.” She rolled her eyes. “Like I don’t know what you guys are up to when you’re alone.”

 

Buffy sighed, deciding that she wasn’t going to win this argument. “You can spend the night _if_ you’re invited and _if_ it’s okay with Melissa’s mom. I don’t want you inviting yourself over, even if it is to avoid being permanently scarred.”

 

“Okay,” Dawn said so cheerfully that Buffy knew she’d most likely already been invited and had accepted.

 

“I’ll be in the living room,” she said. “Oh, and tell Spike that I brought him some clothes.”

 

Buffy had actually run quite a few errands in between seeing Xander and coming back home. She had been thinking about maybe getting a job, just part time, at least until school started. With Spike’s trust fund, she could take her time in looking for something that she might actually enjoy. So she’d picked up some applications at different shops, and then she’d stopped by Spike’s apartment and got some clothes for him. Buffy had no idea how long it was going to take to get the demons off of Spike’s back, but until they did, she wanted him close.

 

At least until they took care of the curse. Then he’d have a better shot at getting some help if he needed it.

 

Buffy was idly flipping channels on the television set when Tara knocked on the front door and then entered. “Did you talk to Willow?” Buffy asked immediately.

 

Tara nodded, and then she burst into tears. Buffy was at her side immediately, leading her over to the couch and sitting her down. Buffy had been good at this, once upon a time. Giving comfort, easing hurts. It felt as though it had been so long since she’d had the energy that it was something of a surprise to find that she had strength enough to offer Tara her shoulder.

 

“I’m sorry,” Tara finally gasped, pulling back. “I shouldn’t—”

 

Buffy kept her arm firmly around Tara’s shoulders. “Don’t worry about it. I take it that the visit was not a fun one.”

 

“You could say that,” she replied, sniffling, wiping her eyes and wet cheeks with her hands. “Willow pretty much admitted that she put the curse on Spike. She tried to deny it at first, but—”

 

“She never was very good at lying,” Buffy supplied.

 

Tara shook her head. “No. She said it couldn’t be lifted, Buffy. She—wouldn’t even think about lifting it herself. I don’t—I don’t even recognize her anymore.” Tara had to stop before she started crying again.

 

“I know,” Buffy said softly. “I do. I’m so sorry, Tara.”

 

Tara shook her head. “It’s not your fault.”

 

Buffy gave her a hug. “Maybe not, but I can’t help but feel that I should have done something before this.”

 

“You did, Buffy,” Tara replied sincerely. “You told her that you weren’t going to put up with it. That’s a pretty big deal.”

 

“Maybe,” Buffy allowed. “Do you want some tea or something?”

 

Tara shook her head. “I—I need some time, but thank you. If you need any help…”

 

“I know where to find you.” Buffy watched her leave, her heart sinking. She hated seeing Tara hurting like this.

 

Buffy was startled out of her thoughts by the pendant dropping down in front of her eyes. She took it from Spike and put it back on. “She going to be alright?” he asked, once he knew Buffy would hear him.

 

“Eventually,” Buffy replied. “It takes time, you know?”

 

“I know.” Spike flopped down next to her on the couch, giving a sigh of contentment when Buffy leaned up against him. “So how bad is it?”

 

“How bad is what?”

 

“Can we get rid of this curse, or am I stuck relying on that bloody necklace to communicate forever?”

 

Buffy sighed. “Willow either can’t or won’t reverse her spell. I’m not sure which it is, and…” She trailed off. There was another option available, other than asking Willow nicely to take care of her mess. Buffy wasn’t quite ready to treat Willow as an enemy, though. Not yet.

 

She didn’t have the strength.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Spike said, trying to sound nonchalant. “We’ll get it sorted some other way.” He understood why Buffy was unwilling to force Willow to help them, and he couldn’t be disappointed. Besides, the witch was powerful enough to swat Buffy good if the Slayer did confront her.

 

“Anya thinks she might have another way,” Buffy replied softly. “It’s not a sure thing, and it requires Giles to do some translating from Latin, but—”

 

“I know how to translate Latin.”

 

Buffy’s head shot up. “Really?”

 

“I’m rusty, but I could probably work it out.” Spike looked a bit ashamed of the fact, although Buffy had the feeling that he was more ashamed of the fact that he spoke Latin at all, not that he was rusty.

 

“When did you learn?”

 

“Long time ago.”

 

Buffy got the same expression on her face that she’d had every time Spike managed to surprise her. Spike might have called it affectionate wonder. “So here you are, Mr. Language-Guy, and I never knew. How come I never knew?”

 

“Never came up before,” Spike replied.

 

Buffy shook her head. “I’ll give Anya a call and tell her that we’ve got our own translator, then. That way she won’t have to bother Giles if she hasn’t already.”

 

“Buffy, I’m leaving!”

 

Buffy grunted, pushing herself up off the couch with some effort. She was so tired. All she wanted was to go to bed, but she should patrol, and probably alone. If any of Sunnydale’s resident demons saw Spike—at least those greedy enough to want the cash prize for killing him—they would have a fight on their hands.

 

For once, Buffy wasn’t in the mood for a fight. She wanted a quiet evening in with her guy, and a full night’s sleep, in that order.

 

“Be careful,” she said, seeing Dawn in the doorway, impatient to be gone. “Call tomorrow if you’re going to stay past noon, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Dawn said, with an eye roll, demonstrating what she thought about Buffy’s tendency to be overprotective. “See you tomorrow.”

 

Dawn was out the door in a flash, and Buffy spared a moment to wonder if she shouldn’t walk her sister the block or two to Melissa’s house. She dismissed the idea just as quickly. Dawn would never forgive her, and it was still light outside.

 

As soon as Buffy shut the front door, however, she heard a knock at the back door. “Who the hell could that be?” she muttered. “Be right back, Spike.”

 

“Take your time,” he called.

 

Buffy went into the kitchen and opened the back door to find Clem standing on her porch. “Hey,” he said, obviously nervous about being at the Slayer’s house. “Are you Buffy?”

 

“I’m Buffy,” she replied warily. Buffy wasn’t used to having demons show up on her back porch out of the blue like this. “Is there something I can help you with?”

 

Clem looked relieved as he saw Spike approaching over her shoulder. “Spike!”

 

Buffy turned to see the vampire. “Spike? Do you know him?”

 

“Sure, that’s Clem, my mate,” Spike replied, relieved that the curse didn’t work on demons. “Clem, this is Buffy.” He gave her a pointed look. “Maybe you could invite him in?”

 

“Come in, Clem,” Buffy said. So much for a quiet evening at home. “What’s up?”

 

Clem looked from one to the other. “I just wanted to drop in, see how you were.” He shifted nervously. “There’s been some trouble recently.”

 

“We noticed,” Spike said ruefully. “Spent a few days hiding in the sewers.”

 

Clem gave a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you’re okay, Spike. When I heard that witch put a contract out on you, I—”

 

“What witch?” Buffy asked in a hard voice.

 

Clem blinked, nervous again. The Slayer didn’t look too happy with him. “Uh, they say she’s pretty powerful. I’ve never seen her myself, so I wouldn’t know her.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “Crap. This is just great. I can’t believe her!”

 

Clem was starting to look really nervous. “Uh, there was just one more thing.”

 

Spike frowned. Clem was harmless, but he heard a lot. “What’s the one more thing?”

 

“The Slayer’s sister?” Clem scratched behind one ear. “Word is, Rack wants to get his hands on her. I know that you like her, so I thought I’d let you know.”

 

“Dawn,” Buffy said, heading straight to the phone to call Melissa’s house.

 

Spike’s jaw clenched. “Thanks, Clem. Means a lot that you would let us know about something like this.”

 

Clem shrugged. “No big deal. I probably should go, though. You guys look like you’re pretty busy.”

 

“We’re going to be,” Spike admitted. “I’ll come by after this is sorted, yeah?”

 

“Sure thing, Spike,” Clem said cheerfully. “Be careful out there.”

 

Spike shut the door behind Clem, and then turned to Buffy. He knew what had happened with one look at her face. “She isn’t there?”

 

Buffy shook her head. “No. Not yet. I have to go.”

 

Spike cursed, knowing that it was still too light outside for him to be of any help. “Once the sun goes down—”

 

“I’ll be here,” Buffy said. “I’ll need your sleuthing capabilities.” She didn’t waste anymore time. She grabbed her jacket and flew out the front door, swearing to herself that she was going to have it out with Willow.

 

Just as soon as she rescued her sister and got rid of the curse on Spike.


	16. Find A Way

**“If we can’t find a way to live/It’s that we don’t know how to give/We’re breathing but with iron lungs/Speaking but in separate tongues/Just find a way, a way to live/The walls are high but made of glass/The dye is dark but not yet cast/And though remorse comes easily/An act of love could set you free…” ~Heather Nova, “A Way To Live”**

 

“Willow’s done _what_?” Giles asked.

 

Anya took a deep breath. She thought she’d been clear enough the first time around. “Willow put a curse on Spike. No one can hear him, and he only hears bad things. Buffy has a necklace that dispels illusions, so whoever is wearing it can communicate with him, but the only way to remove the curse is a ritual. It’s in Latin, and we need you to translate.”

 

There. That ought to be simple enough for Giles to understand. Honestly, sometimes Anya really wished she could go back to being a vengeance demon. Men were evil. She should have remembered that.

 

“What did Spike do?” Giles asked, still sounding bewildered.

 

Anya rolled her eyes, even though she knew Giles couldn’t see her. “Giles, Spike didn’t do anything except be a better friend than Willow. She’s just mad that she doesn’t have the best friend role anymore.”

 

Giles sigh carried clearly over the line. “Do I need to come?”

 

“No, you don’t have to,” Anya replied. “Since you clearly have better things to do.” She paused. “Oh, and Xander broke up with me, and—” She stopped as Buffy came through the shop door. “Just a minute. Buffy’s here.”

 

“I need that book with the reversal in it,” Buffy said. “Rack has Dawn, and I need to figure out what I’m going to have to do to get her back.”

 

“Talk to Giles while I get some stuff together.” Anya handed the phone to Buffy, quickly trying to figure out what she might have to repel a nasty warlock like Rack. She didn’t have a lot ready-made, but there were some protection amulets that might do the job.

 

“Giles,” Buffy said with some relief. “I hope you can translate that reversal spell quickly. Spike said he understood Latin, but he’s rusty, and I need him helping me with Rack.”

 

“What exactly is going on, Buffy?” Giles was getting a little impatient. It appeared as though everything had gone to hell while he’d been gone.

 

“Anya told you about Willow’s curse?” Buffy asked. When Giles responded in the affirmative, she continued. “Short version is that Willow took Dawn with her to some sort of magic-crack dealer. Now he’s got Dawn. Apparently, Willow also put a price on Spike’s head, so he’s got demons chasing him all over town. Oh, and Xander broke up with Anya, and he’s busy being drunk, so of course he can’t help me either.”

 

“I’m coming,” Giles said. “Have Anya fax me the spell, and I’ll work on it while I’m on my way.”

 

“You don’t have to come, Giles,” Buffy said. “I think we’ve got it under control.” There was a banging in the background. “I have to go. I’ll have Anya fax you the spell.”

 

Giles hung up after he heard the dial tone. “Good Lord,” he muttered. “I never should have left.” He rubbed his forehead with weary fingers. He sighed, listening as the fax machine started beeping at him. His eyebrows went up as he saw the first page, and the opening words of the spell. “Oh, no. Not another vampire.”

 

~~~~~

 

Dawn was scared. Actually, upgrade that to terrified and that would be closer to the truth. Partly it was the fact that it had been broad daylight when those goons had grabbed her. Scary things were supposed to come out after dark, when neither Spike nor Buffy allowed her to go out by herself.

 

Instead, the two men who grabbed her had gotten out of a beat up old van that looked like the one Oz used to drive. They’d hustled her inside, one of them clasping his hand firmly over her mouth. Her struggles had been completely ineffectual, and Dawn had realized then that there was no way she was going to be able to get herself out of this.

 

They’d bound her hands together with duct tape, and then shoved her in a corner.

 

All of that had been bad enough. When she’d realized where they were taking her—or rather to whom—Dawn knew it was going to get bad. She stood in front of Rack in his greasy back room. “It’s nice to see you again,” he said, running a finger down her cheek.

 

Dawn raised her chin, keeping her brave face firmly in place. “When my sister gets her hands on you, you are going to be _so_ dead.”

 

Rack just laughed. “I don’t think so. See, I heard that her pet vampire is on the run, and Strawberry struck him with some serious mojo. Without him, the Slayer won’t be able to find me, which is why I made sure I waited to make the grab.”

 

Dawn really wanted to tell him that Spike was just fine, and that he was staying at their house, but she kept her mouth shut. As long as Rack believed himself safe, Buffy would have the element of surprise, and that would help. “You don’t know Buffy,” she shot back, hoping that her trembling knees weren’t giving away her fear. “She’ll find me, and then she’s going to kick your ass into next week.”

 

“So much fire,” Rack murmured. “Do you know what people will pay to get a little of that juice? In a nearly endless supply, too.” He seized her chin in his hand, ignoring Dawn’s efforts to free herself of his grip. “Don’t worry, Sunshine. You’re not going to want to go anywhere.”

 

The sensations that flashed through her were overwhelming. Dawn felt as though she was floating. Like nothing could touch her. There was a small voice in the back of her mind that warned her that it wasn’t real, that Rack was using something to keep her calm, keep her pliant.

 

From somewhere very far away, he said, “Now, let’s see how this works with you as the battery.”

 

In the next moment, Dawn knew exactly why Rack had made sure she was going to be compliant. Without the distance his mojo had given her, she’d have been screaming in pain.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike was waiting for Buffy on the front steps when she got back to the house. “Didn’t find her?”

 

Buffy shook her head. “No. Nobody saw a girl get grabbed, either. I knocked on a few doors, but—” She took a deep breath. “Dammit, Spike! It was broad daylight! I thought—”

 

“We all did,” he replied grimly. “We’re going to get her back, luv.”

 

“I know.” She handed him a piece of leather with a charm hanging off of it. “Put this on.”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “A talisman? You really think something like this is going to work against Rack?”

 

“I have no idea, but it’s better this than nothing. I called Tara, and we’re supposed to pick her up on the way to find Dawn. I didn’t want to take the time, but—”

 

“We may end up needing the fire power,” Spike supplied. “It’s a good idea.”

 

They set off at a quick pace for Tara’s apartment. “Anya called Giles. He’s going to work on translating that spell.” Buffy made a face. “He suggested that he come, but I told him not to worry about it.”

 

Spike gave a short laugh, the sound grim. “Yeah, right. You tell him not to worry, and he’ll probably be on the first flight over.”

 

Buffy made a face. “I know, but I didn’t have time to argue with him, not with Dawn—” She stopped. “She has to be okay, Spike.”

 

“She’s going to be,” he promised. “We’ll make it be okay. We managed before, yeah?”

 

“We always manage.” Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “No one had better get in my way tonight, or they will be very unhappy.”

 

Spike wasn’t quite sure where that comment had come from, and then he saw the three demons approaching them. He and Buffy were going to have to go through them to get to Tara’s apartment, and Spike groaned. “Bloody hell. Maybe I—”

 

“Don’t even think about it,” Buffy ordered him. “I am not leaving you behind. I need you with me for this one. We take them together. Do you know which one is the smartest one?”

 

Spike frowned, trying to figure out if he knew any of the demons, either personally or by reputation. “The one on the left is probably the most intelligent, but why—”

 

Buffy shook her head. She didn’t have time to explain what she wanted. “Just leave him to me.”

 

Spike nodded shortly, and then took off running to meet the demons. True to his word, Spike concentrated on the demon on the right, keeping a sharp eye out for the other two. Buffy was fighting the demon in the center, a big, bulky demon with green skin and odd blue eyes.

 

Spike had his hands full with the one he’d chosen. The demon was obviously very interested in the payoff, and he was about a head taller and a hundred pounds heavier than him. Spike was doing his best to stay out of the way of the demon’s fists, waiting for his chance to get in a few punches of his own.

 

He saw his advantage suddenly and moved to take it. His heavy boot connected with the demon’s kneecap with a satisfying crunch, and Spike used his elbow to come up under the demon’s chin.

 

The demon choked, clutching at his throat, and Spike rabbit punched him in the side, bringing the demon to his knees before breaking his neck.

 

Spike turned to see that Buffy had already killed one demon and was standing with her boot on the neck of the third. “So, can I trust you to relay a message?” Buffy asked cheerfully.

 

The demon—the one Spike had decided was the most intelligent—nodded desperately.

 

“Good. Here’s the deal,” Buffy said, her voice hard. “Spike is mine. I don’t think I need to remind you that, as the Slayer, it’s my job to kill your kind, but I have a live and let live policy most of the time. Do not make me kill every single demon in Sunnydale, because that is what I will do if that’s what it takes to keep my boyfriend safe. I don’t care who put the price on his head, because it’s no longer a good offer. Do you understand?”

 

The demon nodded again. “Got it,” he croaked.

 

“Now get out of here,” Buffy said, removing her boot. “And don’t you dare get in my way again.”

 

The demon ran off, and she turned to look at Spike, who was watching her with a sort of amused awe. “So, I’m yours, am I?”

 

“Pretty much,” Buffy replied. “Unless you’ve got a problem with that.”

 

Spike shook his head. “No, luv, I think I can live with that.” They started off in the direction of Tara’s apartment again. “So you’d really kill every demon in Sunnyhell for me?”

 

“In a heartbeat,” Buffy replied, knowing that it was nothing less than the truth.

 

~~~~~

 

“Get up, Xander.”

 

Anya’s voice came from above him, and Xander stared at her blearily. “An? What are you doing here? What—”

 

“Get up,” she said sharply. “We have a problem, and we might need you.” She gave him a disgusted look. “We certainly don’t need you drunk.”

 

He sat up slowly, putting his head in his hands. “Anya, I—”

 

“I’m still angry at you,” she informed him. “And this doesn’t mean I’m ready—or even willing—to take you back. But Willow’s done something really bad, and Rack has Dawn. I don’t know if we’ll need you, but we might. So get up.”

 

Xander struggled to his feet. He thought he was pretty much sober at this point, but he had the mother of all hangovers. All he wanted to do was to lie back down on the couch. He also had a pretty good idea that Anya wasn’t going to let him. “What did Willow do?”

 

“She put a curse on Spike,” Anya said. “Giles is translating the spell to reverse it, but Buffy’s going to go after Willow after she finds Dawn.”

 

Xander was still struggling to catch up. “Wait. What happened to Dawn?” Alarm was beginning to penetrate the fog.

 

Anya rolled her eyes. “You know what? I don’t feel like repeating myself a hundred times. Go shower, and then I’ll tell you.”

 

Xander didn’t have the energy to argue. He did as he was told, showering and changing into fresh clothing, as well as brushing his teeth. His mouth tasted like something had died in there. When he came out of the bathroom, Anya had a pot of coffee ready for him. “Get your coffee, and let’s go,” she said. “Buffy told me to wait for her at the Magic Box. Giles is going to call the shop when he has the translation done.”

 

“Wait. What happened to Dawn? And where have you been staying the last couple of nights?”

 

“I stayed at a hotel, Xander,” Anya replied sharply. “Where do you think? And Rack has Dawn. He grabbed her this afternoon while she was walking to a friend’s house. Buffy took Spike and Tara, and they’re going after Rack. Then she’s probably going to hurt Willow.”

 

“I thought you said Rack took Dawn,” Xander protested, taking the travel mug full of coffee and following his (ex) fiancée out the door. “What does Willow have to do with it?”

 

“Willow took Dawn to Rack’s.” Anya sighed. She was suddenly wondering how she’d put up with Xander for so long. Really, he could be so _obtuse_ sometimes. “Rack wouldn’t even know Dawn existed if it hadn’t been for Willow.”

 

Xander couldn’t think of anything to say to that, so he changed the subject slightly. “And Willow put a curse on Spike?” he asked, thinking that might not have been such a bad idea.

 

Anya could read him better than he realized. “Yes, Xander. Willow cursed Spike, and then she set most of the demon population of Sunnydale on him. Just think of what would have happened if Spike had been with Dawn when that happened. Or with Buffy. Or with you, even. Someone else could have gotten hurt. So don’t even begin to think that cursing Spike was a good idea. It wasn’t. It was stupid.”

 

Xander shut his mouth and sipped his coffee. Judging from Anya’s tone, there was no point in disagreeing with her. Besides, it looked like he needed to save his strength for dealing with this thing with Willow.

 

When had everything gone so terribly wrong?

 

~~~~~

 

Spike couldn’t help thinking that it had taken them too long to find Rack’s. The magician had had Dawn for hours. He could be doing anything to her. Spike stood outside Rack’s place, feeling the swirls of energy. Rack had done a better job of hiding himself, but Spike was still the Big Bad.

 

And Rack was about to find out just how bad he was.

 

“I want you to promise me that you will get Dawn out of there. No sticking around,” Buffy said quietly.

 

Spike glared at her. “Buffy—”

 

“I’m serious, Spike. I know Dawn will be safe with you. I need to know that she’s with someone I trust.”

 

He swallowed his anger, knowing that Buffy was right. She needed to know that Dawn was safe, and the girl would be with him. “What about the curse?” he asked.

 

Buffy hesitated, hating the idea of going in there without being able to communicate with him. “You take the necklace,” she said. “Dawn’s going to need to hear you.”

 

When Spike hesitated, Tara spoke up. She’d been silent up to this point, watching their exchange with a great deal of interest. She wondered if either Spike or Buffy realized that from the outside, their relationship appeared to be a very stable one. In fact, if Tara didn’t know better, she’d have guessed that they’d been together for years, not just weeks or months.

 

“I have to agree with Buffy. The chip isn’t going to allow you to do much harm to Rack, even if he is a pretty sorry excuse for a human.”

 

Spike growled something under his breath when Buffy repeated Tara’s message. Both women could see that while he might accept that fact, he certainly didn’t like it. “Fine. Meet you back at the house, then?”

 

Buffy nodded. What she wanted was to initiate a make out session right then. She wanted to back Spike up against the wall of the alley, witnesses be damned, and have her way with him. She wanted to tell him she loved him, while he could still understand her. There wasn’t time for any of that, however. They’d already wasted enough time trying to find the house, and pull together all the resources they needed.

 

So Buffy took off her necklace, gave it to Spike, smiled at him, and walked inside, Tara on her heels.

 

Spike watched her go, following the plan they’d worked up on the way over. It had been a simple decision on their part to ask Tara for help, even though Willow might be the more powerful witch. Right now, they couldn’t trust Willow, and Buffy didn’t want her anywhere near Spike.

 

Buffy and Tara would go in, distract or throw out anyone in the waiting room, and then they would do what they could to keep Rack busy while Spike went in and grabbed Dawn. Hopefully, they would manage all of this without Rack turning them into toads, or frying them, or something equally unpleasant. Tara was of the opinion that Rack had very little real power. He was a coward who leeched energy from others.

 

The only problem Spike saw with that theory was that Dawn, as the Key, might have given him a tremendous charge.

 

Spike waited a few seconds, and then followed Buffy and Tara through the door. The waiting room was empty, and the door to the back room where Rack had his office-of-sorts was closed. When Spike tried the handle, it was locked, and he nearly snarled.

 

Spike backed up and then kicked a hole through the wood near the handle, thanking his lucky stars that the building was of such cheap workmanship. The door wasn’t even real wood.

 

He snaked his arm through the hole and unlocked it with nimble fingers, throwing it open and looking around. There was no sign of Buffy, Tara, or Rack. There was, however, a large hole where the window used to be, and Dawn was sitting in the corner, shivering.

 

“Bloody hell,” Spike muttered, hurrying over to her. She cringed away from his touch when he reached for her. “Nibblet—Dawn, luv, it’s me.”

 

Dawn didn’t even react, just stared at him with unseeing eyes. Spike cursed when he realized that she couldn’t hear him, and he pulled the necklace out of his pocket and clasped it around her neck. He pushed her long hair out of the way gently, touching her cheek, trying to get her to focus on him. “Come on, Dawn. It’s just Spike. Look at me, Little Bit.”

 

She seemed to come around a bit then. “Spike?” she whispered. “Are you really here?”

 

Spike pulled a knife out of his pocket and quickly cut the tape around her wrists and ankles. “Sure I am. In the flesh. We got to get out of here, okay?” When she just stared at him, Spike scooped her up into his arms. “Hang on, luv. I’m going to take you to the doctor, okay?”

 

“No! No doctors, Spike. Please, no doctors.” Dawn was clutching at his t-shirt and beginning to cry. “Can I go home? Please? I can’t tell anyone. Please don’t tell anyone.”

 

“We don’t have to tell anyone,” he assured her helplessly, starting for the door. “It’s going to be just fine, luv. I promise. Everything is going to be fine.”


	17. Absence of Fear

**“Inside my skin there is this space/It twists and turns/It bleeds and aches/Inside my heart there’s an empty room/It’s waiting for lightning/It’s waiting for you/And I am wanting/ And I am needing you here/Inside the absence of fear…there is this hunger/This restlessness inside of me/And it knows that you’re no stranger/you’re my gravity/My hands will adore you through all darkness aim/They will lay you out in moonlight/And reinvent your name/For I am wanting you/And I am needing you here…” ~Jewel, “Absence of Fear”**

 

“Someone should talk to her.”

 

Anya stared at Xander. “And I suppose that someone is you?”

 

“I am her best friend, Anya,” he replied. “This is Willow we’re talking about. If she knew what happened, she’d want to help. She’d be the first one here.”

 

“She’s the reason Dawn’s in trouble in the first place,” Anya replied. “Buffy doesn’t want her involved.”

 

“Buffy’s still mad that Willow did the resurrection spell.” Xander’s jaw was set stubbornly. “I’m sure Willow will—”

 

“Curse Spike again?” Anya suggested sweetly. “Or maybe she’ll do a spell on Buffy to make her feel better. Or possibly do a spell on us so we’ll be happy again. No, Xander. You aren’t talking to her.”

 

“You can’t stop me.” He stood. “Willow loves Dawn.”

 

“And if you love Dawn or Buffy, you’ll sit down and wait for them,” she said firmly. “Buffy said she didn’t want Willow involved. We need to respect her wishes.”

 

Xander sat back down, Anya’s words beginning to penetrate his brain, which was still not operating up to full capacity. He was torn. Xander just couldn’t believe that Willow meant any real harm. At the same time, if what Anya was telling him was true, it didn’t matter what Willow’s intentions had been. Dawn could be seriously hurt or killed—Buffy too.

 

However he might feel about the curse she’d apparently placed on Spike, Anya was right. If Buffy didn’t want Willow involved in the rescue attempt, she shouldn’t be involved.

 

Xander looked over at her. “What happened, An?”

 

He probably wouldn’t have asked her that question if he hadn’t been a lot hung over and horribly tired. Anya wasn’t the person he turned to to answer those sorts of questions for him. She was the only one present, the only one he _could_ ask under the circumstances. Xander was beginning to wonder if she wasn’t the only person he had left.

 

Only, he didn’t really have Anya anymore, either.

 

Anya looked at him, compassion in her eyes. She still loved him. Call her crazy, but she did. On the other hand, Anya wasn’t so sure that she was going to marry him at this point. Xander wasn’t ready for her.

 

Maybe she wasn’t quite ready for him, either.

 

“I don’t know, Xander.”

 

There was really nothing more to say, and so they sat and waited in an uncomfortable silence.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy would have preferred to throw Rack out the window. She’d been able to spare a moment to look at Dawn, but no more than that. She _wanted_ Rack. She wanted his head on a pike, to be precise.

 

Tara had been right, though. Rack was a coward. He saw her coming and jumped, the glass in the window shattering before he even hit it, the door to the waiting room banging shut behind them, as if he thought he could lock Dawn in. As if he thought he had even a chance of surviving this confrontation. One thing was for sure—he didn’t want to face the Slayer.

 

Well, Buffy would just have to chase him down.

 

She didn’t stop to wait for Tara, figuring that the other girl would do her best to keep up. It was pure luck on her part that Rack chose the wrong alley to run down, finding a dead end, rather than the escape route he’d been hoping for. Buffy skidded to a stop in front of him, and Rack raised his hands, green energy beginning to glow. “Good thing I had a chance to get charged up.”

 

Buffy dropped when she saw the ball of energy come at her, gasping as the heat made her skin prickle. She launched herself at him from the ground, head-butting Rack in the stomach. She could hear the breath leaving his body, and she followed up her advantage with a fist to his face, knocking him down.

 

Rack recovered too quickly—much more quickly than a human should have been able to¾his laughter echoing in her ears and grating on her nerves. “Your sister was so sweet,” he gloated. “So pure. Best thing I’ve tasted in years.”

 

“I’m going to kill you,” Buffy said, her anger rising. “I’m going to hurt you so bad—”

 

Tara’s shouted warning had Buffy throwing herself to one side, and Rack’s bolt of energy zinged harmlessly by. Buffy could hear Tara chanting something in the background, but she wasn’t paying much attention to that. She could see Rack bring his hands up again, but this time the energy seemed to fizzle, and Buffy rushed him, throwing him head-first into the alley wall.

 

The crack of bone told her everything she needed to know.

 

Buffy just wished Rack hadn’t died so quickly.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike sat with Dawn on the couch, rocking her slowly. He’d done this for Drusilla, when the visions got bad, so it wasn’t as though he didn’t have experience with this sort of thing. It tore at him, though, to see Dawn so broken. She kept crying, asking him not to tell anyone. Spike had no idea what she was referring to—what she didn’t want told.

 

All he could do was hold her and rock her, making promises that he didn’t know could be kept.

 

He still wasn’t sure what Rack had done to her. He could guess, of course. Rack was a power leech, so it was likely that he’d sucked up some of the power that was still inherent in Dawn’s blood from her being the Key. The difference between Dawn and Rack’s usual clientele was that his customers gave him tacit permission to take their power in exchange for the high he gave them. It was black stuff—nasty stuff.

 

Rack’s clients asked for it, but Dawn was an innocent.

 

Spike had done virtually the same thing to girls just like Dawn. He’d taken without asking, had stolen their innocence and left death in his wake. Of course, Spike didn’t often leave them alive to tell the tale, but those girls had left people behind. People like him, and Buffy, who would be devastated if anything happened to Dawn.

 

This was why vampires weren’t meant to spend time with humans, to make friends with them, to become close to them. It forced him to think about them as something other than food—something other than prey.

 

There was no going back now. Spike knew he’d changed. When he’d been testing the chip out—after it had stopped working on Buffy—when he’d cornered that girl in the alley, Spike hadn’t really wanted to hurt her. He’d wanted the blood. He had wanted the taste, had craved the hot rush, the sense of power—but he hadn’t wanted her dead.

 

It had been a relief when the chip prevented him from harming the girl.

 

Now, though, Spike knew he wouldn’t—couldn’t—go back to what he had been. It wasn’t because of his love for Buffy, or because she’d dust him. It was because he hated the way he felt, holding Dawn in his arms, helpless to do anything other than utter meaningless words of comfort.

 

It was because the way Spike felt right then—he might wish it on his worst enemy, but not a stranger.

 

Humans weren’t just happy meals on legs anymore. Spike wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.

 

Dawn’s sobs were slowing into deep, hitching breaths, her hands still clutching his t-shirt. “Is he dead?”

 

“Your sister was going to do the job,” he replied softly. “And if she doesn’t, I swear to you I’ll take him out, even if it kills me.”

 

“He wasn’t going to let me go,” she whispered. “He was just going to keep—”

 

“Hush now,” Spike soothed. “You know we wouldn’t have let that happen. Should have been there sooner, Dawn. I’m sorry. Failed again, and—”

 

“No.” Dawn met his eyes for the first time. “You saved me. You always do. You always keep your promises, Spike.”

 

“You know it.” Spike stroked her hair out of her face. “I will always come for you.”

 

And he held her until she finally fell asleep.

 

~~~~~

 

The body was easy enough to dispose of. Buffy simply hauled Rack’s still form back to the house, depositing it in the waiting room. She hoped that the cops wouldn’t look too hard into his death. Of course, given the fact that it was Sunnydale, she knew that the cops didn’t often scrutinize strange deaths, and no one was likely raise a fuss about Rack.

 

Unless it was one of his junkies, but they probably wouldn’t carry much weight.

 

“Are you okay, Buffy?” Tara asked quietly, once they were well away from the now-visible house.

 

Buffy shook her head. “I don’t know. I—I don’t know what he did to Dawn, and I don’t know if he would have come after her again. I feel like I had to do it, but—”

 

“You did what you had to do,” Tara assured her. “Rack—the world is probably better off without him.”

 

“He was still human,” Buffy murmured. “I never thought—” She fell silent. “I have to get back to the house, make sure Dawn is okay.”

 

They were across from the Magic Box, and Buffy looked across the street through the lit window. She could see Xander and Anya moving around inside, and she wondered if they’d made up yet. “I’ll let them know how everything turned out,” Tara said. “Do you want me to come by tomorrow?”

 

“That would be great,” Buffy replied. “I’d really appreciate it.”

 

Tara hugged her, feeling Buffy’s arms tighten around her. “Call me if you need anything.”

 

“Thank you.” When Buffy pulled back, her eyes met Tara’s, and the understanding that she saw in the other girl’s eyes allowed her to smile, however briefly.

 

Buffy hurried home, feeling a flash of terror when she entered the house, not seeing or hearing either Spike or Dawn right away. What if something had gotten to Spike while he was getting Dawn home?

 

A noise from the second floor caught her attention, and Buffy went upstairs. Spike was sitting on the edge of Dawn’s bed, watching the sleeping girl with haunted eyes.

 

“Spike?”

 

His head came up and he looked over at her. Buffy belatedly remembered that she wouldn’t be able to hear him as she entered the bedroom and leaned over her sister. She could see the marks of tears on Dawn’s face, and Buffy touched her cheek. Being careful not to wake her, Buffy removed the necklace, then put it on.

 

She held her hand out to him. After a moment’s hesitation, Spike took her hand, following her out of the room and into Buffy’s bedroom. “Did you have any trouble?”

 

He shook his head. “No. I kept out of sight as much as possible on the way back here.”

 

“How is she?” Buffy asked.

 

Spike shook his head. “Dunno, Buffy. Whatever he did…”

 

“What did he do?” Buffy demanded.

 

“Couldn’t get a clear answer on that. She just—she was hysterical for a while, crying and such. When she finally calmed down a bit, she went to sleep. Figured it was for the best.”

 

“It probably was,” Buffy agreed.

 

“Is he dead?” Spike asked, his eyes blazing. “If he’s not—”

 

“He’s dead.” Buffy turned away, walking over to the window. “I wanted to kill him, Spike, but—it was mostly an accident, you know?”

 

“Yeah. Happens that way in the middle of a fight sometimes.”

 

Buffy could sense him standing just behind her, but there was a distance there that wasn’t just physical. “I told my mom I would take care of her. I should have done something. I knew that Rack might—”

 

Spike grabbed her shoulders and turned her around, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Wasn’t your fault, Buffy. I told you I’d protect her. I—”

 

“This wasn’t your fault, Spike. You can’t be with her all the time.”

 

“Neither can you,” he replied, angrily.

 

Buffy pulled his head down, kissing him roughly, feeling his hands begin to jerk her shirt up. She pushed him away, ignoring his muffled protest, shoving him back towards the bed. Buffy was on top of him immediately, impatiently pushing his t-shirt up.

 

Spike ignored her fumbling hands, pausing to pull it off in one smooth motion, then doing the same for hers. The rest of their clothing followed in short order, their hands and mouths desperate, rough.

 

It was over quickly, but Buffy still clutched at him, unwilling to let him go. His hands ran soothing circles over her back. They were both silent, the darkness of the bedroom a warm cocoon.

 

“It wasn’t your fault.”

 

“I know.” Buffy sighed. “I know,” she repeated. “What am I going to do about Willow, Spike?”

 

“Why are you asking me?”

 

“Because you’re the one she hurt.”

 

Spike grimaced. “I’d say that’d be Dawn. I’ll be fine.”

 

“You also have good ideas on occasion,” Buffy said.

 

“Just on occasion?”

 

“I’m not going to answer that.”

 

The silence that fell was almost comforting. “I don’t know, luv. I’d suggest doing something to get through to her. Make her leave us alone.”

 

“Maybe Giles will help,” Buffy said. “He’s supposed to call Anya back with the translation for that ritual.”

 

Spike snorted. “More like he’s going to tell me to go to hell.”

 

“Then you can translate it,” Buffy suggested sweetly.

 

“You do realize he’s going to be on the next flight over, don’t you?”

 

Buffy pressed a kiss to his chest, which was warm with borrowed heat. “Then I’ll tell him what I’ve told everyone else up ‘til now.”

 

“And that is?”

 

“That you’re mine.”

 

There was a long pause. “What about you, Buffy? Are you my girl?”

 

She raised her head to meet his eyes. “Yeah, Spike. I’m your girl.”

 

~~~~~

 

Tara entered the shop, watching as both Xander and Anya swung to face her. She found it odd that she was the one with news, the one who had been off on the mission. Usually, it was Willow and Xander providing Buffy’s backup, with Spike as the muscle. This time, Tara had been the one to be in the middle of the action.

 

It had been scary, but she felt a sense of accomplishment that lifted her spirits. She’d managed to keep Rack from summoning more power so Buffy could engage him.

 

“How is Dawn?” Anya asked immediately.

 

“I’m not sure,” Tara admitted. “Buffy and I took care of Rack, and Spike got Dawn home. I’m supposed to go by tomorrow.”

 

“Buffy’s okay, then?” Xander asked.

 

Tara nodded. “She’s fine.”

 

“What’s going on with Willow, Tara?” Xander demanded. “Has anyone spoken to her?”

 

“I have,” Tara said quietly. “She’s not ready to listen to reason.”

 

“About Spike?” Xander asked. “Why should she? Buffy’s—”

 

“Buffy is making the best choice she knows how to make,” Tara stated firmly. “I think he’s changed.”

 

Xander grimaced. “You can say that because Spike never tried to kill you.”

 

“He hasn’t tried to kill any of us for a long time,” Anya said sharply. “And let me remind you that I was all set to kill you for Cordelia.”

 

That shut Xander up fairly quickly.

 

The phone rang, cutting off the rest of the conversation. Anya picked it up, greeting Giles by name. “Spike and Buffy got her out of there,” she replied to his immediate question. “I don’t know. We haven’t seen them yet.” She paused. “Xander can pick you up. See you tomorrow.”

 

“Giles is coming back?” Xander asked once Anya hung up the phone.

 

Anya nodded. “He’ll be here tomorrow, with the translation for the spell.”

 

“That’s good.” Tara sighed. “This whole thing is getting old.”

 

“I still don’t see why not hearing Spike could be a bad thing,” Xander muttered.

 

“Well, next time Spike tells you to duck before some huge vampire brains you, I’ll make sure he keeps his mouth shut,” Anya said sweetly, referring to a particular episode from the summer.

 

Tara had to hide a smug grin.


	18. Trust

**“I had no choice but to hear you/You stated your case time and again/I thought about it… Your love is thick and it swallowed me whole/You’re so much braver than I gave you credit for/That’s not lip service…You are the bearer of unconditional things/You held your breath and the door for me/Thanks for your patience/You’re the best listener that I’ve ever met/You’re my best friend/Best friend with benefits/What took me so long?...You’ve already won me over in spite of me/And don’t be alarmed if I fall head over feet/Don’t be surprised if I love you for all that you are/I couldn’t help it/It’s all your fault.” ~Alanis Morrissette, “Head Over Feet”**

 

“I’ve got it,” Buffy said, hurrying to grab her robe.

 

Dawn’s cries had woken both her and Spike, but the Slayer was the first out of bed. Spike paused in reaching for his jeans. “You sure?”

 

Buffy gave him an apologetic look. “She wouldn’t be able to hear you anyway, Spike.” She heard him curse as she left the room, wincing. Hopefully, Giles had managed to translate the spell, and they would be able to lift the curse soon. It was becoming more than just a nuisance.

 

Dawn was awake by the time Buffy reached her sister’s room, sitting up in bed and taking deep breaths. “Dawnie?”

 

“I’m okay.” She looked up at Buffy, trying to smile. “It was just a bad dream.”

 

Buffy sat on the edge of the bed. “Are you sure? Do you want to tell me about it?”

 

Dawn shook her head. “Not really. It was—just bad.” She gave her sister a hopeful look. “Did you—”

 

“He’s not going to hurt you again, Dawn.” Buffy pulled her into a hug. “He can’t touch you now.”

 

“I’m glad.”

 

“Can you tell me what happened?” Buffy asked, feeling Dawn give an involuntary shudder at the question. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

 

Dawn shook her head, pulling back slightly. “No, it’s okay. I can tell you. It was—these two guys just came out of nowhere and grabbed me. They—they took me to Rack, and he did something. Something to make me feel all floaty, like I wasn’t really there, and then he—” Dawn stopped. “I can’t explain it. It hurt, though. It felt like he took something.”

 

Buffy could see that Dawn was trying not to cry. “It’s okay, Dawn.”

 

Dawn shook her head. “I just feel so stupid. People keep coming after me, and then you have to rescue me, and you’ve got enough to worry about. And Spike, with the curse and all the demons after him…”

 

“This isn’t your fault,” Buffy said quietly. “I know I haven’t been very good recently about hanging out with you. Since I’ve been back, things have been hard, but that’s not your fault. Any time you get into trouble, I’m going to be there to get you out of it.” Buffy gave her a wry grin. “Even when it _is_ your fault.”

 

Dawn laughed a little tearfully, hugging Buffy tightly and burying her face in her shoulder. “I love you.”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

~~~~~

 

Giles was jet-lagged, irritable, and not at all happy to see Xander waiting for him. “Where’s Buffy?”

 

“At home,” Xander replied, shrugging uncomfortably. “She said she wasn’t going to leave Dawn, and Dawn wasn’t ready to go out. I guess I’m driving you straight over.”

 

“What on earth is going on between her and Spike?” Giles asked. “This ritual—can’t Willow just lift the spell herself?”

 

Xander looked even unhappier. “Tara asked her to, but Willow said it couldn’t be removed.”

 

Giles frowned. He left and everything had almost immediately gone to hell. Buffy had apparently become quite close to Spike—if the ritual was any indication—Willow was using magic irresponsibly, and Xander had called off his wedding. “Where is Anya?”

 

“At the Magic Box.” Xander looked over at Giles. “Did she tell you what happened?”

 

“She told me.” Giles gave him a sharp look. “What were you thinking?”

 

“I was thinking that I’m not ready to get married.” They’d reached his car. Giles had brought a carry-on, but no other luggage, and so they hadn’t needed to wait by the baggage carousel. “All I wanted was to put it off.”

 

Giles snorted. “I’m sure Anya took that well.”

 

“No, that’s when we broke up. I still want to be with her.”

 

“Why?” Giles asked bluntly. “To what end?”

 

“I love her,” Xander replied. “I just don’t know if it’s enough.”

 

“Then you’d best figure it out,” Giles said. “Anya isn’t the sort to be satisfied with half-gestures.”

 

“How would you know?” Xander asked suspiciously.

 

Giles shot him a dirty look. “Because we worked together for the last year, Xander. I happen to like Anya. I find her annoying at times, but she’s a hard worker, and she has a good heart.”

 

“Oh.” Xander shook his head. “But how do you _know_ if it’s forever?”

 

“Maybe when you wouldn’t want it any other way,” Giles suggested. “Now, could we go, please? There is quite a bit to do, and not much time to do it in.”

 

~~~~~

 

Tara smiled at Buffy. “How’s Dawn today?”

 

“Better,” Buffy replied. “She’s beginning to play on my sympathy, which is probably a good sign.”

 

Tara laughed. “Probably.”

 

“She woke with nightmares last night, though,” Buffy said, more seriously. “I sat with her until she went back to sleep, and I don’t think she woke up again. It’s just—I’m not sure if what Rack did is going to have any lasting effects, or what this means…” Buffy trailed off. “I hadn’t even thought about Dawn still being the Key.”

 

Tara frowned. “I don’t know, Buffy. It’s hard to say what being the Key will mean for Dawn in the long run. I believe that she’s a perfectly normal teenage girl, but that doesn’t rule out the possibility that her blood may continue to have certain properties.”

 

“Something to have Giles research, I guess,” Buffy said. “Did you bring what we need for the ritual?”

 

Tara shook her head. “Giles called last night while I was still at the Magic Box. He’s flying in today, and he’s bringing the translation with him.”

 

Buffy made a face. “Why do I think this is going to get very uncomfortable?”

 

“Probably because it will,” Tara replied sympathetically. “You and Spike have my support, for whatever it’s worth, though. And Anya’s.”

 

“I appreciate that,” Buffy replied. “I guess we should go see if Dawn’s willing to part with that necklace.”

 

Tara smiled as she realized what Dawn’s sympathy ploy had been. She wondered how Spike was feeling about being in such high demand between the two Summers.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike was beginning to fidget, thinking that he should go elsewhere. Buffy had convinced Dawn to let her have the necklace back, so Spike could hear what Buffy was actually saying. Any time Dawn or Tara mentioned his name, however, it was a different story, and even though he knew he wasn’t hearing them correctly, their words still hurt.

 

Especially since he was still stinging from his failure to protect Dawn.

 

When the doorbell rang, Buffy rose from her seat. “I’ll get that.”

 

Spike stayed silent, knowing that Tara and Dawn wouldn’t hear anything he said anyway. Dawn’s hand came to rest on his arm, and he looked up. She didn’t say anything, squeezing tightly. He gave her a smile in reply.

 

“I can’t believe you haven’t staked him yet,” Xander said, his voice traveling clearly from the front hall. “Spike is more trouble than he’s worth, Buffy.”

 

“Thanks for picking Giles up, Xander,” Buffy replied. “I didn’t want to leave Dawn. We’ve got it from here. Too many more people would be a crowd.”

 

“You can’t seriously be thinking of lifting the curse on Spike,” Giles said. “I would think silencing him was a favor more than anything else. You ought to be thanking Willow.”

 

“Willow refused to lift the spell,” Buffy said. “She told Tara that she couldn’t, but that might just mean that she wouldn’t.”

 

Giles followed Buffy into the kitchen. “What are you doing here, Spike?” Giles asked.

 

Spike looked at Buffy, not knowing how to reply, or even what had been said. Dealing with the curse was bad enough when there were only one or two others besides the necklace wearer. With a crowd like this, Spike’s discomfort was acute, and he wanted nothing more than to escape. “Buffy—”

 

“This isn’t going to work,” Buffy said, reading the emotion on his face. “Look, Spike, why don’t you go upstairs? I’ll speak with Giles, and we’ll figure out how we’re going to lift the curse.” When he hesitated, she asked, “Do you trust me?”

 

“Do I have a choice?” Spike asked. He saw her hurt expression and immediately regretted his hasty words. “I’m sorry, luv. This is—”

 

“This sucks,” she said. “I know, Spike, but you have to trust me to do the right thing.”

 

He nodded shortly. “Right.”

 

When he rose to leave, Giles opened his mouth to say something. “Don’t, Giles,” Buffy ordered. “Spike doesn’t need to hear another insult.” Buffy was quiet, waiting until she knew Spike was upstairs. “Okay, now what were you going to say?”

 

Giles sighed. “You know, I do realize the dangers of leaving the curse in place, Buffy, but—”

 

“Do not even say it,” Buffy said angrily.

 

Giles stopped, deciding that it wasn’t worth making Buffy any angrier. He looked over at Dawn. “How are you, Dawn?”

 

She shrugged. “Pretty good for somebody who was in the clutches of an evil warlock.”

 

If Giles hadn’t just spent the last summer watching Dawn try to put a brave face on things, he might have missed the signs. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

 

Dawn shot him a look. “Spike was the one who rescued me.”

 

Giles winced. “Yes, well, I can see when I’m outnumbered.” He pulled a folded sheet of paper out of his breast pocket, handing it to Buffy. “I don’t think that this is going to work, Buffy,” he warned. “The ritual must be performed by someone who loves the victim, and I don’t know of anyone who fits that description.”

 

“I do!” Dawn said indignantly. “I can do the ritual!”

 

“You’re not doing any spells,” Buffy replied, quickly reading through the words of the spell. She handed the papers to Tara. “What do you think?”

 

“The ingredients are easy enough to find,” Tara replied. “That’s not going to be the problem, Buffy.”

 

Buffy nodded. “Good.” She looked at Giles. “You look tired. Do you want to get some rest?”

 

Giles decided that Buffy wasn’t going to discuss matters with him further. “That would be nice.”

 

“I’ll get the bed ready,” she said, heading upstairs.

 

Giles turned to Tara and Dawn. “How long has this thing been going on?”

 

Tara and Dawn looked at each other. “Between Spike and Buffy?” Tara hedged.

 

Giles pulled off his glasses and started cleaning them. “Yes.”

 

“For a while,” Dawn said, a note of defiance in her voice. “And it’s a really good thing, so don’t mess it up.”

 

Tara shot Dawn a look. “It’s been good for Buffy, Giles,” she said gently. “She’s been a lot happier. A lot more…engaged.”

 

Giles sighed. “I suppose it isn’t any of my business.” He gave Tara a gentle look. “And Willow?”

 

“From bad to worse,” Tara admitted. “I understand that not everyone agrees that Spike is the best choice of boyfriends, but it’s Buffy’s choice. Willow—she could have gotten someone killed.”

 

Giles sat down at the table. “I don’t think she’ll listen to me,” he admitted. “When I confronted her about the resurrection spell, she didn’t take it well.”

 

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Tara said quietly. “I think I might have an idea, but it’s going to take both of us.”

 

“Both of us?”

 

“It’s a spell,” Tara said quietly. “It’ll force Willow to see herself as we see her. I think it might help.”

 

“I want to help,” Dawn stated.

 

Tara looked alarmed. “Dawnie, I don’t think—”

 

“She was the one who took me to Rack’s,” Dawn said. “She didn’t even apologize for that. I want her to understand that she hurt me.”

 

Giles winced and then nodded. “If Buffy agrees, it might not be a bad idea. Dawn’s favor is not something Willow would want to lose.”

 

“Okay, if Buffy agrees,” Tara said. “But that’s going to have to take place after we lift the curse on Spike.”

 

“What is lifting the curse going to do to Willow?” Giles asked. “Won’t it go back on her?”

 

“It could,” Tara admitted. “Which is why I think we should try to do both spells at the same time, or nearly so. Willow’s powerful enough that we’ll want to try to catch her as unaware as possible.” Tara didn’t look at all happy about the idea of ambushing her ex-girlfriend, and Giles knew how she felt. He had a great deal of fondness for Willow.

 

“There’s a coven in England that might be willing to train her,” he said. “If we can get her to see that she needs help.”

 

“That’s a pretty big if,” Dawn remarked bitterly. “Willow doesn’t think she needs anybody.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Sure, just fine. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

 

“Spike—”

 

“It’s fine, Buffy.”

 

“Giles translated the ritual,” Buffy said. “Tara said she could get the ingredients pretty easily.”

 

Spike nodded, turning away from the window to look at her. Buffy had found him standing in her room, at the edge of the patch of light that was streaming through the crack between the window and the blinds. She wondered if Spike had something of a death wish. It would make sense, the way he was always chasing Slayers, braving the sunlight, picking fights with the demon-world.

 

“What else is involved?”

 

“Just me and you, from what I understand,” Buffy replied. “It doesn’t look all that hard.”

 

Spike eyed her suspiciously. “What aren’t you telling me?”

 

“Don’t you trust me?” Buffy asked.

 

“Yeah, ‘course I do,” Spike replied. “But you’re not telling me something.”

 

Buffy sighed. “The spell requires a gesture of trust.”

 

“What kind of a gesture?” Spike asked.

 

She shrugged. “I have no idea. Apparently that’s for the individual doing the spell to decide.”

 

Spike sat down on Buffy’s bed. “Do you want to do it? You don’t have to, luv. I’ll figure it out. I can—”

 

“Leave the room anytime two or more people are talking?” Buffy suggested softly. “Feel like you’re invisible every time a human who isn’t wearing a charmed necklace is around? No, Spike. That’s not fair.”

 

Spike looked down at his hands. “Yeah, it’s no picnic.”

 

She sat down next to him. “I’m going to ask Tara to get what we need. We’ll do the ritual tonight, and then we’ll figure out what we’re going to do about Willow. She can’t get away with this. I’ve let too many things slide lately.”

 

Spike nodded. “Ta, luv.”

 

Buffy had some idea of how much those words still choked him. It was as difficult for Spike to accept any kind of help as it was for her.

 

She had a feeling that he was going to have a large problem with the ritual, too. Buffy already had some idea of what the gesture of trust was going to be, and she wondered if Spike would go through with it.


	19. Leap of Faith

**“I lost it all/You got it back/Believed in me/When I gave up on myself again/A sudden rain/ Revealed your face/I knew right then/No matter where I go I’d have/Your hand to hold…I was/A tender reed/Bent in the wind/And then the storm had passed/And you helped me stand upright again/So here we are/Nothing to lose/So take my hand/We’ll jump right in/The water’s warm/It’s time to swim…” ~Plumb, “Sink n’ Swim”**

 

Buffy took the plastic bag filled with magic supplies from Tara. “So we know how this is going to work?”

 

Tara had taken a trip to the Magic Box for the necessary supplies, after teaching Buffy the correct pronunciation for the Latin in the ritual. Buffy had spent the last couple of hours memorizing the words. It would have been easier if the whole thing had been in English, but that wasn’t possible. Apparently, there were segments that simply weren’t as potent if spoken in English. In order to break Willow’s spell, the magic was going to have to be pretty powerful.

 

Tara nodded. “When you lift the curse, it will probably spring back on the caster.”

 

Buffy raised an eyebrow. “Probably?”

 

She sighed. “It’s hard to say. It depends on how Willow set up the spell. Sometimes curses are tied to the person who made them in the first place. Sometimes they’re not. If they are, then the witch will know if the curse has been broken.”

 

“What if it doesn’t work that way?” Buffy asked.

 

Tara looked grim. “Then Giles and I take her by surprise and cast the other spell anyway.”

 

“The one that Dawn wants to help you with,” Buffy stated. She frowned. “I don’t want her involved in this, Tara. She’s—”

 

“It’s not dangerous,” Tara assured her. “I wouldn’t have even suggested that Dawn help if it was. I also don’t think that Willow would deliberately hurt her, and…”

 

When Tara trailed off, Buffy nodded. “You think that how Dawn looks at Willow will have more of an effect on her than anyone else’s opinion.”

 

“Dawn hasn’t done anything to hurt Willow,” Tara pointed out. When Buffy looked like she was about to protest, Tara raised her hand to forestall the argument. “That’s the way Willow will see it. I think it has a better chance of working than if one of us was the focus.”

 

“You think this will really bring her to her senses?” Buffy asked. “I mean, it just seems like this isn’t really Willow, you know?”

 

“I think she needs to realize what kind of damage she’s doing,” Tara said. “And I think this might be the only way to accomplish that.”

 

Buffy nodded slowly. “Okay. Dawn can help. I know you and Giles will take care of her. How will you know when we’ve completed the ritual?”

 

Tara smiled ruefully. “I’ll know. I should be able to feel it since I’m looking for it. If I can’t sense it, hopefully we’ll get the timing right.”

 

“Okay. I guess I’ll get this set up, then.”

 

Tara put a hand on Buffy’s arm, watching her closely. “Buffy, are you sure about this? The ritual calls for…”

 

“I know.” Buffy shrugged. “It’s weird, and unexpected, and Spike’s still a pain in the ass, but he’s _my_ pain in the ass.” Her face softened. “I wouldn’t have made it through the last couple of months without him.”

 

Tara impulsively gave Buffy a hug. “If it makes you feel any better, I like Spike.”

 

Buffy returned her embrace, thankful that at least one person in her life didn’t think she was making some huge mistake. One person besides Dawn, anyway, who was completely biased in Spike’s favor. “Thank you. That does make me feel better.”

 

“Do you know what you’re going to do?” Tara asked, referring to the gesture of trust that the ritual called for.

 

Buffy nodded, her eyes deadly serious. “Yeah, but I have no idea if Spike will cooperate.”

 

~~~~~

 

Anya looked up when the bell over the door jangled, frowning when she saw Xander. “What do you want, Xander? I’m in the middle of making orders.”

 

He hesitated. “Can I talk to you?”

 

She put her pen down. “Talk.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Xander began awkwardly. “When I—I was stupid.”

 

“I’m not going to argue with you.”

 

He winced. “Thanks. It’s just that I think we’re moving too fast. I wanted to slow things down.” Xander met her eyes. “I love you, Anya. I don’t want to break up with you.”

 

“I didn’t want to break up with you either,” she replied. “Xander, you put your friends before me most of the time.”

 

“They’re my friends, An,” Xander replied. “They do important work.”

 

“And your girlfriend isn’t just as important?” she asked. “I don’t want you to marry me if you’re just doing it because you want to keep me around.”

 

Xander ran a hand through his hair. “I want to keep you around, but it’s more than that,” he said with a sheepish look. “It’s just that I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

“But you did hurt me,” Anya replied. “You don’t want to be with me.”

 

“I do!” he protested. “It’s just—forever is a long time.”

 

Anya nodded. “You’re right, it is.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not going to wait around for you to make up your mind, Xander. If you don’t want forever with me, then I think we should end this now.”

 

This was it, Xander realized. This was where he had to make a decision. Anya wasn’t going to let him off the hook. There wasn’t going to be any more waiting. Xander could either put aside his fears and go ahead with their relationship, or he could walk away.

 

He just wished he knew the right thing to do.

 

~~~~~

 

Willow had no idea what had happened. Her plan had been perfect. Once Spike was out of the way, Buffy would come back to her friends. Except that apparently Spike was still alive—or undead—and now Tara was helping him.

 

Tara’s words haunted her. What if she had been right? Willow had just wanted to fix things. Buffy was dead; she would bring her back to life. Tara was angry with her; Willow would make her forget their fight. Both Buffy and Tara were upset and angry; Willow would make it better.

 

That’s all she’d wanted really.

 

Now, however, Willow didn’t know what to do to make things right. She couldn’t remove the curse; she hadn’t lied to Tara about that. Willow was fairly sure that the curse couldn’t be lifted unless she died or Spike did. Apologizing to Buffy wouldn’t change things either, and besides, Willow really didn’t want to.

 

She’d simply been doing what she thought was best. Since when were you supposed to get into trouble for good intentions? If Buffy had just talked to _her_ , instead of going to Spike, everything would have been okay. They could have worked something out. Willow could have fixed it, but instead everything had gone so horribly wrong.

 

And she didn’t think she could do anything about it.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike watched Buffy suspiciously as she set out the various spell ingredients on her dresser, close to hand. “You haven’t told me why Tara isn’t doing this.”

 

“That’s because she doesn’t have to,” Buffy replied. “It’s also because once we break the curse on you, Giles and Tara are going to go after Willow immediately, so she can’t do it.”

 

“You’re not telling me everything.”

 

“No, I’m not.”

 

Her honesty surprised him. “Buffy—”

 

“The spell has to be done by someone who loves the victim.”

 

Spike stared at her. “Then it’s not going to work.”

 

“Why is that?”

 

“You don’t love me,” Spike said. “You—” He stopped, staring at her in wonder as Buffy used the ritual preparations to cover her confusion. “Buffy?”

 

She ignored him in favor of lighting the candles at the four points of the compass on the floor. “Step into the circle, Spike.”

 

“But you—”

 

“When this is over we can talk about how I feel,” she said. “For right now, I want to get this done.” Buffy saw the hurt on his face, and she sighed. “Spike, please. I promise we will talk about this, in great depth and in as much detail as you like. When I feel like I have more than a minute to breathe. We’re kind of on a schedule here.”

 

He stepped into the circle. Spike wanted this curse gone as much as Buffy did—more than Buffy did. He also really wanted to know what else this little magic trick was going to reveal. “So what do you have to do?”

 

“Say a prayer, chant a chant, make a big trust-like gesture, and boom. The curse should be lifted.”

 

“Should be?”

 

“Anya said she’s seen it work once before, but it turned out badly. I’m hoping we’re the success story,” Buffy admitted. “You ready for this?”

 

Spike nodded, listening as she began to chant in English, and then in Latin. His Latin was definitely rusty, but he understood the rest of it just fine. The trouble came in with the Latin, which was a plea for charity—and something else. Spike couldn’t quite figure it out. He knew that Buffy loved her friends, loved her Watcher, loved Dawn. For all he knew, she could love him too, but not in the way he wanted.

 

How did you define love? More importantly, how did Buffy?

 

She’d loved Dawn enough to die for her. Spike wondered if she loved him enough to stay with him. He tended not to have great luck in that area.

 

The Latin ended and the English began again, a statement of complete trust to demonstrate the fact that he was worthy of being saved.

 

Spike was beginning to feel an odd tingling sensation, as though he was warming from the inside out. It should have been impossible because he was a vampire, and vampires didn’t feel heat or cold, at least not under normal circumstances. This was anything but normal, though.

 

“Buffy?”

 

She kept going, stubbornly working through the Latin. It was just the same phrase over and over again, and Spike wondered when she’d learned to say it properly.

 

Spike was beginning to get warmer, and he wondered if his skin would feel hot to the touch. It felt like some great pressure was building, and he could see the flames of the candles rise and the sand marking the edges of the circle begin to glow.

 

Now Buffy was asking somebody or other to regard her offering with favor, and Spike started getting _really_ uncomfortable. What the hell kind of offering was she going to make? He didn’t want her to make a sacrifice. That wasn’t what it was supposed to be about. Spike had been trying to make Buffy’s life easier, not harder.

 

Buffy finished the chant with the same Latin she’d been using. Spike had heard it so many times at this point that he knew it by heart. She was asking a favor, that the curse over him be broken. They were simple words.

 

As was her gesture as finished the last round of chanting.

 

Spike watched in disbelief as Buffy pushed her hair over one shoulder, leaving the left side of her neck bare. “What are you doing?”

 

“It’s my big gesture,” she replied. “Bite me, Spike.”

 

Spike stood frozen. He couldn’t believe this was even happening. That Buffy would offer herself up to him willingly—if she came to regret it later, though… “I can’t, Buffy. You don’t want this.”

 

“Actually, I do.” Buffy’s mouth was a straight line. “And don’t tell me what I do or don’t want. I’m old enough to know my own mind.”

 

“I can’t,” Spike replied, knowing that he sounded like an utter git. “You’ll hate me for it.”

 

Buffy took a small step closer to him. “No, I really won’t.”

 

“Why not?” Spike demanded. “What’s so important about me, Buffy? Why put your neck on the line for _this_?”

 

“Because I love you, you idiot,” she said, sounding a little irritated by the whole thing. Buffy stepped even closer, invading his space. “And because I trust you. With everything. This is just the icing on the cake.”

 

Spike couldn’t have said no to her even if he wanted to, and he _really_ didn’t want to. It had been years since he’d drunk from a living human, and Slayer’s blood was like a Siren’s call. Spike wondered if Buffy had realized that she was the only person he could have fed from, and he hadn’t done so. If that alone hadn’t told Buffy everything she needed to know about his feelings, there were no words that Spike could have used to convince her.

 

He wondered if she’d even thought about it. Spike wondered if Buffy even knew what she was doing.

 

It was more than just placing her life in his hands. It meant that she was breaking down every barrier that stood between them, offering him everything she had.

 

His face shifted, and Buffy smiled at him, touching his cheek. “Go on, Spike. Break the spell.”

 

Spike felt as though he was burning up from the inside out. He was on fire. The candles were still flaming, the light from the circle covering them with a blaze of glory. Buffy’s face was glowing; she looked like an angel. It seemed impossible that he should even be able to touch her, monster that he was.

 

But he would take it because she offered.

 

Spike heard her cry of pain when he bit down, and he would have withdrawn, but Buffy’s hands came up, her fingers gripping the short hair at the back of his head. “I’m okay,” she whispered in his ear.

 

He kept drinking, feeling the heat explode through him in a moment of ecstasy so profound he couldn’t even comprehend what had just happened. It was that night in the abandoned house all over again, only better.

 

It was everything he’d ever wanted, ever longed for. It was perfect.

 

Spike pulled back, even though Buffy’s hands maintained their tight grip on his head and neck. “Gotta stop now, luv,” he said quietly, his face shifting again. The room was now shrouded in darkness, the candles having gone out and the pale sand demarcating the circle glowing only faintly in the moonlight. “You okay?”

 

“More than okay.” Buffy kissed him hungrily. It wasn’t that she’d gotten off on him biting her, precisely. It wasn’t quite like the excitement that came after a good fight either. She’d felt perfectly safe in his arms, even with his teeth buried in her neck.

 

It had been the look of wonder on Spike’s face, the absolute awe that her words had kindled. It was feeling, if only for a moment, that she belonged exactly where she was.

 

And it was the fact that even if she was safe with Spike, Buffy was walking on the edge by having a vampire biting her. The adrenalin was coursing through her, as much from the bite as from Spike’s expression of adoration. She’d put that there.

 

Her hands were frantic on his clothing. She wanted him _now_.

 

Spike’s hands were equally insistent. “Buffy…say it again.”

 

“I love you,” she said, her hands on his belt buckle.

 

Spike’s hands were actually warm on her skin, the remnants of the spell causing an artificial heat.

 

There was a kind of rough tenderness in their lovemaking, a raw need that went beyond words. It was hungry and desperate and nearly overwhelming. Buffy understood what Spike meant when he said he was drowning in her, because the feeling was mutual.

 

And it felt so right.

 

~~~~~

 

“How are you going to know when Buffy does the ritual?” Dawn asked. She was standing with Giles and Tara on the UC Sunnydale campus, near Willow’s dorm room.

 

Tara looked at her watch. “Buffy was going to start around nine. We guessed that it would probably take about fifteen minutes to finish the spell.”

 

Giles raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you’d be able to sense when it was broken.”

 

“I should be able to,” Tara replied. “The timing is just so we have something else to go by in case it doesn’t work.”

 

“What if nothing happens when Buffy does the ritual?” Dawn asked. “Are you and Giles going to be able to take her?”

 

“I’m hoping that we’ll catch her by surprise,” Giles admitted. “If Willow is unprepared, she cannot be on the defensive.”

 

Dawn raised her eyebrows. “That’s not making me feel any better.”

 

“It wasn’t meant to,” Giles replied, sounding a little snappish.

 

Tara straightened. “It’s done.”

 

“You felt it?” Giles asked, following her as she headed towards the front doors of the residence hall.

 

Tara just nodded, heading down the hall towards the corner room. She waved Giles and Dawn to stay back where Willow wouldn’t be able to see them when she opened the door. Steadying herself, Tara knocked. She didn’t want to do this. It felt like a betrayal, to be trying to catch her ex-girlfriend unaware. In some ways, it felt as though they were doing exactly what they had accused Willow of.

 

Tara just wished she could find a different way.

 

Willow opened the door, looking pale and ill. “Tara? What—do you know what happened?”

 

Tara nodded. “Buffy broke your curse, Willow.” She didn’t know what she was hoping for. Maybe if Willow had seemed relieved, or if she’d expressed any remorse for doing the curse in the first place. Instead, anger flashed across the redhead’s face—anger and hurt pride.

 

“Buffy did it?” Willow asked in disbelief. “Buffy doesn’t know anything about magic. I made that curse so it couldn’t be broken!”

 

Tara set her jaw and raised a hand. “ _Necto_.”

 

Willow stared at her in surprise as the binding spell took affect. “What? What do you think you’re doing? You can’t hold me! Is this about the curse? Spike is a vampire! He’s not a person! He’s nothing!”

 

“ _Necto_.” Giles’ voice took on a deeper tone as he reinforced the binding spell, coming into the room, Dawn at his heels. “Shut the door, Dawn.”

 

Dawn did as she was told, leaning against the closed door and staring at Willow with a cold expression. “How does it feel, Willow?”

 

“Dawnie, what are you doing?” Willow asked. “I don’t know what they told you, but it isn’t true.”

 

“You know what’s true?” Dawn asked. “What’s true is that you took me to Rack’s, and if you hadn’t, he never would have known about me. What’s true is that he decided he would kidnap me because _you_ put that spell on Spike, and Rack didn’t think Spike would be around to protect me. You’re the reason that bastard took what he did from me.”

 

Willow shook her head, her eyes wide. “Dawn, you have to know that I would never hurt you. I never did anything to hurt you! You know that!” She was so focused on Dawn and her accusations that Willow didn’t notice that Tara and Giles were beginning to chant quietly from either side of her.

 

“Now, Dawn,” Tara commanded.

 

Dawn reached out and grabbed Willow’s hand. “No, Willow, you have to know exactly how we feel about you.”

 

Willow was suddenly inundated with Dawn’s feelings of rage and helplessness, her feelings of betrayal. It was Willow who had hurt Buffy so badly, Willow who had gone after Spike just when they were starting to feel like a family again, Willow who had put her in danger.

 

Dawn hated this person that Willow had become, the woman who had replaced the girl she had hero-worshipped.

 

Willow was sobbing by the time Dawn let go of her hand, but they weren’t done with her yet. Tara was next, and the sense of utter disappointment and complete loss of trust nearly did her in. She was begging them to stop in a broken voice when Tara released her. Giles just shook his head when Tara and Dawn looked at him to see if he would finish the spell.

 

“That’s enough,” he said quietly.

 

Tara nodded, speaking the words to end the spell and release the binding. Willow collapsed on the floor, still weeping, the emotional onslaught having broken through her denial. Tara watched her weep and couldn’t help but feel compassion for her. At the same time, she couldn’t go to her. Not anymore. Not now.

 

“Why don’t you take Dawn home?” Giles suggested. “I’ll take care of Willow.”

 

“Okay,” Tara said. “Dawnie?”

 

“Yeah, let’s go,” Dawn said, heading out the door. “Only, maybe we’d better stop somewhere in between first.” She didn’t want to be around Willow. In fact, right now Dawn thought she’d be just as happy if she never had to see her again.

 

Tara frowned. “Sure, if you want to, but why?”

 

Dawn smirked. “Knowing my sister and Spike, they’re going to need privacy for a while.”


	20. Home

**“…Oh night that joined the lover/To the beloved one/Transforming each of them into the other/Upon that misty night/in secrecy, beyond such mortal sight/Without a guide or light/Than that which burned so deeply in my heart/That fire ‘twas led me on/And shone more brightly than the midday sun/To where he waited still…I lost myself to him/And laid my face upon my lover’s breast/And care and grief grew dim/As in the morning’s mist became the light…” ~Loreena McKennitt, “The Dark Night of the Soul”**

 

When Buffy opened her eyes, she realized that she’d passed out at some point during the course of their lovemaking. Or was it after? Perhaps she’d simply fallen asleep. It had been intense, that was for certain.

 

“You okay, luv?” Spike asked.

 

She stirred herself enough to look at him. “I’m good. A little sore.”

 

He immediately appeared apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be,” Buffy said.

 

Spike touched her neck, next to his bite mark. “Does it hurt?”

 

“Not that much,” Buffy replied truthfully. “Slayer healing and all.”

 

He nodded, not replying.

 

Buffy realized that they had moved from the floor to her bed at some point, and she dimly recalled the flames from the candles leaping and the sand of the circle glowing. “I didn’t burn up the carpet, did I?”

 

“No, it looked alright,” Spike replied. “Your sister and Tara made it back okay.”

 

“They did the spell?”

 

Spike nodded. “Guess Willow broke down. Rupert stayed with her. He didn’t come back here, so I’m guessing he either got a hotel room or stayed there all night.”

 

“All night?” Buffy asked. “What time is it?”

 

“Near noon,” Spike replied. “You were out for a while.”

 

She sat up. “Wait, Dawn had school today. It’s Monday. I—”

 

“I got her off,” Spike replied. “Harris drove her.”

 

Buffy settled back down in bed. “What did you tell her?”

 

Spike shrugged as best he could from his reclining position. “Told her that the spell took a lot out of you.” He smiled. “It worked, you know. Dawn heard me yelling at her to get her arse out of bed just fine.”

 

“I’m sure she appreciated that.”

 

“Probably not, but she was on time, so…” Spike trailed off. “Did you really mean it, Buffy?”

 

She didn’t bother trying to play dumb. “I meant it.”

 

“When?”

 

“When did I know? Or when did I fall in love with you?”

 

“Either. Both.” Spike looked away. “I didn’t think—I didn’t know.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Buffy sighed. “I don’t know when I fell in love with you,” she admitted. “It just sort of happened. I knew when we had to break into your apartment, and I realized that if you weren’t around anymore…”

 

“Yeah,” Spike said quietly, running a hand down her cheek. “Wouldn’t be good.”

 

“No.” Buffy gave him a sheepish look. “So when exactly did I make it to the bed?”

 

Spike smirked. “When I picked you up and put you in it, ‘round about eleven. Then I had to let Dawn and Tara know you were alright. You were out cold.” The smirk faded and softened. “Thought maybe I took too much, but you were pretty involved in what came after.”

 

Buffy snorted. “You could say that. I think it was probably a combination of all of the above.”

 

“All of the above including the mind-blowing sex?”

 

“Don’t push it, buster,” Buffy warned him, her tone indulgent. “You know very well just how good it was.”

 

Spike’s eyes grew serious as he asked, “What’s next, luv?”

 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I do like your apartment, though. I don’t think I got a chance to tell you that. It’s nice.”

 

“It’s not much better than a hole,” he objected. “But it’s something. Thought you might be happier about Dawn going there after school, giving you a break.”

 

“Only if you’re okay with it,” Buffy insisted. “I’m sure you have better things to do with your time.”

 

He just raised an eyebrow. “Not really. You forget that there’s not much a vamp can do in the daylight hours.”

 

“Sleep?”

 

“Don’t need much sleep,” Spike replied. “Never have.”

 

She sighed. “Then I’ll let you tell Dawn when she can come over. It’s up to you and her to work it out between yourselves.”

 

“What about the rest of it?” Spike asked.

 

Buffy ran a hand down the bare skin of his chest. He was cool to the touch again. It had been decidedly odd last night to be with someone whose body heat was at least as great as her own. She thought that she preferred Spike’s usual cooler temperatures. “Does it matter?”

 

“Not as long as you love me.”

 

“Then I guess we’ll figure it out as we go along.”

 

~~~~~

 

Tara entered the Magic Box, wanting to return the book that she had borrowed for the binding spell, as well as the one they’d performed on Willow.

 

It had worked just as well as she’d anticipated. Dawn had broken through Willow’s denial, and Tara’s disappointment had put the cap on it. Giles had called her earlier, saying that he’d stayed with Willow all night, mainly because he didn’t think it wise to leave her on her own. He had also spoken to her about going back to England with him, staying and studying with the coven.

 

Giles felt that Willow needed training, and some kind of outside control. People who could—and would—tell her when she was stepping over the line and prevent her from doing so. He had also suggested that Willow needed to find out who she was again.

 

Tara couldn’t help but agree.

 

“Anya?” she called as she entered the store. Anya came out of the back, and Tara could tell immediately that she’d been crying. “What’s wrong?”

 

The other woman managed a shaky smile. “Xander and I talked. He—he wanted to put off the wedding, but…”

 

“It’s off for good?” Tara asked.

 

“He’s not ready.” Anya sighed. “I don’t know if I’m ready, either, but I wanted this, you know?”

 

Tara nodded slowly. “Yeah, I know.”

 

Anya shook her head. “It’s fine, though. I mean, I’m mad at him, but not really. It’s just hard.”

 

Tara sighed, thinking of Willow. “I know it is.”

 

They looked at each other, a shared understanding passing between the two of them. “I feel like it might be okay, though,” Anya said. “I helped. It’s not like…”

 

“Like you’re just the girlfriend?” Tara suggested, knowing exactly what it was that Anya was getting at.

 

Anya nodded. “Exactly.”

 

“You were a huge help,” Tara said.

 

“Thank you.” Anya smiled, liking the feeling that came from knowing she’d done something good, that she’d contributed. In fact, she’d been more of an integral part of things than Xander or Willow had been. It left her feeling rather smug.

 

“Where are you going to be staying?” Tara asked.

 

Anya shrugged. “I’ll have to look for a new place.”

 

“Do you want some help?”

 

Anya gave the other girl a measuring look and then nodded. “Yes. I think that would be very nice of you.”

 

Tara smiled. The group was re-forming, although along very different lines.

 

~~~~~

 

Dawn had refused to go point-blank, and so Buffy had left her sister with Spike. After everything that had happened with Rack, Dawn was just as uncomfortable being alone as Buffy was leaving her by herself. Giles had called to let her know that he was planning on taking Willow with him back to England. He had suggested that Buffy come see Willow before they left if she wanted to talk to her.

 

Buffy wasn’t sure that she did want to see Willow, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

 

She knocked on Willow’s door, wondering who it was that would greet her. She didn’t have to wonder for long. The witch immediately looked stricken when she saw Buffy. “Come in.”

 

Buffy entered the dorm room, watching as Willow closed the door behind her. “Giles said you wanted to see me.”

 

Willow lost what little color she had. “Buffy, I am so, so sorry. I don’t—I don’t even know what happened. It’s just that I wanted to help, and—”

 

“I understand,” Buffy said quietly. “I know that you were trying to do what you thought was best, but do you understand now that you were wrong, Willow?”

 

Willow nodded slowly. “Yeah. Dawn and Tara got through, loud and clear.” She looked away. “I’m sorry. About the resurrection spell. I wanted you back.”

 

“It’s not always about what we want,” Buffy replied. “Sometimes it’s just about making do with what we have.”

 

“I think I understand that now,” Willow said. “I do. I—I never meant to hurt you.”

 

“I know, Willow.” Buffy wondered if Willow really did understand that what she’d done was wrong, not because she realized how they all felt about it, but because she didn’t have the right to control other people’s lives. Buffy wasn’t sure that she did, but maybe that would come with time and training.

 

For right now, it was enough that Willow had apologized for what she’d done. Only time would tell whether or not she’d actually learned her lesson.

 

“I’m sorry about Spike, too,” Willow continued. “I know that the curse was wrong. Someone could have gotten hurt.”

 

“Spike _was_ hurt,” Buffy pointed out.

 

Willow swallowed, nodding. “You’ll tell him I’m sorry?”

 

“I’ll tell him.”

 

“And I called off the contract. No one should come after him now, at least not for money.”

 

Buffy held in a sigh. Willow sounded like she did any time she made a mistake. Trying to bake cookies to make everything okay. It didn’t seem as though Willow understood that she shouldn’t have put the contract out on Spike in the first place. She didn’t say any of that, though. All she said was, “Thank you. That will make things easier.”

 

They stared at each other, and Buffy wondered when Willow had stopped being her best friend. She was closer to Spike at this point. Or Tara and Anya, who had put aside their own heartaches to help her save Dawn and lift the curse on Spike. Buffy knew that things had been changing for a long time, but she couldn’t ignore the evidence any longer, or pretend that it wasn’t true. It wasn’t a passing phase. It was a fundamental change.

 

Even if Willow returned, even if she learned her lesson, things between them would never be the same again, not after her actions had hurt Buffy’s family so horribly.

 

Buffy still loved her, but she didn’t really like the person Willow had become.

 

“I should be going,” Buffy said. “Dawn’s been wanting me to stay pretty close.”

 

Willow nodded, unable to meet the Slayer’s eyes. “Yeah. I leave tomorrow, you know.”

 

“Giles told me.” Buffy paused. “Good luck, Will.”

 

That was all there was to say.

 

~~~~~

 

When Buffy entered the house, she could hear voices in the kitchen, and she followed the sound to its source. Giles, Anya, and Tara were all there with Spike and Dawn, and Buffy wondered what the emergency was. “What’s going on?”

 

“Giles was just telling us about his travel plans,” Dawn replied. “And Anya and Tara dropped by to see how Spike and I were doing.”

 

Buffy smiled, coming to stand next to Spike. She could feel his hand come to rest at her back, and she leaned into him. “It was good of you guys to come over.”

 

“I had a proprietary interest,” Anya replied. “I wanted to see if the ritual worked this time.”

 

“It worked,” Spike said, an amused gleam in his eyes.

 

Giles looked a little sour. “So we can see.” He glanced at Buffy’s neck, and the healing wound. “Did you speak to Willow?”

 

Buffy nodded. “I’m not sure that she really gets it yet. I mean, she feels bad, and she apologized, but…”

 

“Willow doesn’t yet have a good understanding on what magic ought to be used for,” Giles said. “I’m hoping that the coven will be able to help with that.”

 

“If she doesn’t learn her lesson what are you going to do to her?” Dawn asked. “I don’t want her coming back unless she’s not going to hurt Spike again.”

 

“Nibblet—”

 

“I don’t think you need to worry about that, Dawn,” Giles assured her. “She’s learned that lesson anyway. Buffy’s made her wishes where Spike is concerned very clear.”

 

Buffy could feel Spike’s hand grip her waist as he pulled her just a little closer. Tara nodded her agreement. “Giles has told me a little about the coven, Dawnie,” she said gently. “They aren’t going to let her go until she’s ready. If they feel as though she would be too great a threat…”

 

Tara trailed off, and Dawn moved to give her a hug. “I’m really glad you’re going to be here. I think we got the better deal.”

 

Tara smiled. “Thank you, sweetie.”

 

“Where’s Xander?” Buffy asked. “Is—”

 

“It’s off,” Anya interrupted. “I haven’t seen him since we talked about it.”

 

Buffy winced. “The wedding is off for good?” She turned to Giles. “Does Xander know that Willow’s leaving? He’ll want to talk to her.”

 

“I called and left a message,” Giles replied. “Whether he’ll do anything about it, I don’t know.” He looked at Buffy and Spike, noting their closeness, the happiness in Buffy’s face, her relaxed posture. She was looking better than she had in months, probably since her mother’s death, and Giles decided not to bother with giving his speech about the dangers of embarking on another relationship with a vampire. It wasn’t like Buffy was going to listen to him anyway. “I know this hasn’t been a long visit,” he said, “but perhaps once I get Willow settled I can come back for a couple of weeks.”

 

Buffy’s smile was radiant. “That would be really nice. We’ve missed you.”

 

“Yes, well, I’ve missed all of you as well.” Giles looked around the group, noting Spike’s raised eyebrow. “And, as much as it pains me to admit it, that does include you, Spike.”

 

Spike smirked. “It hasn’t been the same without you here, Dad.”

 

Giles sighed, and then looked over at Buffy. “I know it’s your birthday tomorrow, but perhaps we could have dinner tonight?”

 

Buffy nodded. “That would be good. It’s probably better to skip the birthday this year anyway. I don’t need any new emergencies.”

 

~~~~~

 

Xander wasn’t sure how to feel about all of this. Willow was leaving. He’d just been to see her, and it had been a bittersweet parting. He knew she needed help, but he didn’t want her to leave.

 

“I think this is the best thing to do,” Willow had said bravely. “And I think Buffy would prefer it if I wasn’t around for a while.”

 

Xander hadn’t been able to disagree, not with everything that had gone on. The more he found out about what Rack had done to Dawn, and exactly what Willow’s role in all of it had been, the less he could blame Buffy for wanting to put some distance between them.

 

Willow had messed up big time, and everyone needed a chance to cool down.

 

So it was for the best, but Xander found himself struggling with what to do next. Willow, his best friend, was leaving. His relationship with Anya was over, even though their break up could have been much more acrimonious. He thought that they’d both realized that their doubts were too big to move forward at the moment. Neither of them was ready for the next step, but Anya wasn’t willing to go back to how things had been. Xander didn’t think he could blame her for that.

 

Buffy had Spike now, and Xander knew that he was going to have to get used to having the vampire around. Otherwise, he’d end up losing Buffy too. He was smart enough to know that.

 

Xander felt as though he didn’t have a place anymore. What was he good for? He’d been a lot of dead weight during the last emergency. Spike, Anya, and Tara had been more involved than he was, and they’d done a good job without him. He wasn’t really needed.

 

Still, Xander thought it was only right that he go over to Buffy’s to make sure Dawn was okay. He wanted to see with his own eyes that she was unhurt. After all, Dawn was like a little sister to him.

 

When he arrived, however, everyone else was already standing on the porch, waiting for Buffy to lock up. They were all going out, and Xander felt even more out of place.

 

And then Dawn grinned at him. “Xander! Where have you been?”

 

“I went to see Willow before she had to leave,” he replied awkwardly. “I wanted to see how you were, but if you all are going out…”

 

“Don’t be silly,” Buffy said. “We tried to call, but you weren’t home. You’re invited too. It’s just an early birthday dinner since Giles is leaving tomorrow.”

 

Xander looked around, and even Spike looked—not exactly welcoming, but he didn’t appear to care if Xander did join them. Anya even managed a smile for him. “Is the hangover better?”

 

Xander winced at the reminder, and then resolved to do better. He’d helped get rid of the nerds. He could have helped this time too, if he hadn’t drunken himself into a stupor. That was the last time he’d render himself useless. “Yeah, it is, thanks for asking.”

 

“Are you coming, Xander?” Giles asked, trying to curb his impatience. “We really should be going.”

 

Xander nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

 

It was different, of course. The group would never be the same again. As Dawn came to walk beside him, Xander relaxed. Maybe it was time to let go and move on.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy wondered if she shouldn’t be concerned, seeing Dawn and Spike conspiring during dinner. Of course, seeing the two of them, heads together, deep in conversation, was nothing new. They were close, and this thing with Rack had brought them even closer. Buffy wasn’t sure exactly what it had been about the situation, but she didn’t think she’d have been able to separate them with a crowbar.

 

She was really glad she had no intention of trying to do anything of the sort.

 

The dinner had been awkward at first, what with Willow’s absence, and Xander and Anya’s break up. Giles and Anya had ended up talking about the shop, however, and Tara had drawn Xander out in her gentle way, asking him about his work. Spike and Dawn were obviously planning something, which left Buffy to watch and participate in the conversations when she liked.

 

It hit her suddenly that she was happy. Really and truly happy. So much had been happening over the last couple of days that Buffy hadn’t had time to do anything but deal with the emergency at hand. She hadn’t had time to think about missing heaven, or not feeling as though she fit inside her life anymore, or wondering what the heck she was supposed to do next.

 

Buffy knew in that moment that she would be okay.

 

“Tara, do you think I could spend the night with you?” Dawn asked from her end of the table.

 

Tara raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t say anything. She had a feeling that she knew exactly why Dawn was making her request. “I don’t have a problem with that.” Tara looked at Spike, who smirked. Tara shook her head and smiled. Anya and Giles had missed the exchange, since they were still debating on making a larger order for candles, but Xander winced and then dropped his head to look at his plate.

 

Buffy was impressed by her friend’s restraint. She knew that Xander was trying really hard, and when he looked up again, she caught his eye and gave him a grateful smile. Xander grinned back at her in return, and then said, “You know, Buffy, I was thinking about your basement. I know there’s still water damage down there. If you want, I could help you fix it. Maybe we could finish it off? That would reduce chances of that happening again.”

 

Buffy hesitated. “I don’t know, Xander. I’m not sure we can afford it right now.”

 

“It wouldn’t cost much,” he said. “And I could cover some of it. I feel like it’s the least I can do for you.”

 

“We can talk about it,” Buffy replied, her smile widening. “But that would be really good of you.”

 

Xander nodded, satisfied that she would think about it anyway, knowing that if that were all he could contribute, it would still be something.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy stepped into her bedroom, taking in a quick breath. “Spike?”

 

“Do you like it?”

 

He’d lit candles all around the room, and they provided a soft glow that gave his normally pale skin a warm color. The shirt he’d worn to dinner was half-unbuttoned, and Buffy could see that he looked nervous. Although why he would appear nervous was beyond her. “It’s beautiful, but why?”

 

“It’s your birthday, innit?” he asked softly. “Dawn said they usually turn out pretty bad, and this one hasn’t gotten off to a very good start. Figured we’d start a new tradition.”

 

She looked around the room, seeing all the signs of care that Spike had taken. “It’s beautiful,” she repeated. “No one has ever done anything like this for me before.”

 

Spike took a step forward. “Maybe no one’s ever loved you like I have.”

 

“No, I don’t think they have,” she agreed.

 

Spike’s face softened, his expression tender. “You know that I’d do anything for you, right? I’d change. I _am_ changing. I want you to know that I’m always gonna be here for you an’ Dawn. You don’t have to worry about me, or the chip. You—”

 

“I love you.” Buffy looked amused and touched at the same time. “And I know, Spike. I trust you.”

 

He took a step closer. “So, this thing between us? I’m in it for the long haul, preferably forever.”

 

“I can’t promise you forever,” she said regretfully. “But how about the next, oh, say seventy years?”

 

Spike swallowed, hardly able to believe what she was offering him, hardly daring to believe that this was real. It was everything he’d ever wanted from her. “I think I can live with that.”

 

They came together, unable to resist the pull. It was just as good as it had been their first night, and every time after that, but this time they both knew where they stood, even if they weren’t quite sure of what the future held for them.

 

Buffy knew she was as close to heaven as she could get, and she was content.


End file.
